Equally Blind
by wrenbailey
Summary: Love isn't that fluttering in your stomach, it isn't sweaty palms and racing heart. Love is work that you get paid for with harsh words, rejection, smiles, kisses, trust, and ultimately the other half of your soul.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters you recognize, J.K. Rowling and those big wigs at Warner Brothers do. Since I don't feel like writing this more than once, this disclaimer applies to all following chapters. Don't sue, all you would get is my hospital and college bills.

-----------------------------------------

-------------------------------------------------------------

Sweat was trickling down her back, but at that point it was pouring off her body everywhere. A pale freckled hand came up to push her hair off her sticky forehead, lifting her face up to the sky for the hopes of a breeze to cool her off. And cursing her luck when all she felt was more heat from the summer sun. Frustrated she turned her attention back to the task at hand, going through the pockets of dead people was a necessary part of war and one that she found herself doing without the hesitation she had at first.

"Weasley," Ginny turned from the emancipated body she was currently bent over to see her supervisor coming towards her. Luther Quinley's beetle black eyes shone with lust as they looked over her petite form, the thin medic uniform sticking to her body, "Have you checked and tagged these bodies yet?"

Ginny raised an eyebrow at the heavy set Healer, "Almost, I was just checking these last ones over before the carts arrived."

"Good when you are finished, report back to the medical tent for orders," he said before he spat on the ground and waddled off back to the newly erected tent.

Ginny watched him go with little remorse, actually preferring the company of the corpses over the slightly lecherous old man. Turning back to her work, Ginny removed wands and valuables, wondering the entire time how it ended up that she would be the lowest of the low during the war. How did she go from being third in her graduating class, accepted early to Medi-witch training; then completing it in record time so that she could be of some use in the war. All that work only to end up as a low drudge in the mortuary division of the medical unit. Shoving the corpse over, Ginny fought back the revulsion at the sight of the bloated face. Reaching for his pockets, she began the methodical search for his wand.

The blast threw her back onto to her back; the scream she loosed was lost to her own ears in the pounding of blood in her ears. Pain ripped through her body, Ginny could do nothing more than scream as she felt fire sting her muscles and sink into her bones. Ginny welcomed the darkness that began to encase her mind, welcomed the numbness from the pain. With relief she passed out, never hearing the shouts coming from the approaching Medi-witches and Auror's.

------------------------------------------------------------------

The first thing she was aware of was the darkness; it wasn't the usual kind of darkness that one associates with the night or even the darkness that came when a Dementor was too near. This darkness was soothing, warm in its envelopment of her as she became aware of her surroundings. The next thing that she was aware of was the voices, they were loud and abrasive. Turning towards the voices though Ginny became aware of herself in the darkness, patiently she waited for answers.

"Are you sure? There is nothing you can do?" Ginny's ear perked up, she knew that voice, it was one of childhood. Though at the moment, she could hear the tears instead of laughter. Arthur Weasley had had too much to cry about in the past three years since the war broke out fully. The loss of his wife in an attack on Diagon Alley and the fact that all of his children were involved in the war in some way or another had made him old far before he had a right to be.

"I am deeply sorry Mister Weasley, but the curse the Death Eater placed on himself is meant to kill. Your daughter is very lucky only to lose her eyesight," Ginny felt her heart miss a beat at the cold statement, she knew that Luther didn't really care that he was telling a father that his child was permanently maimed but she still felt a sinking feeling of hate when he said it so harshly to her own father.

"Dad," Ginny whispered, raising her hand to grasp her father's feeling the brush of his robes against the back of her hand, "Dad, it's alright. I-."

Arthur shushed her as he bent to hug her, his blue eyes watering as he looked at her small face shyly smiling up at him. Smoothing a hand over her unruly curls, he cupped her face in his hands, "Oh Ginny-bean, I was so worried."

Ginny smiled against his hands, reaching up herself to touch the bandages wrapped around her eyes. When she felt her father tug her hands away she resisted, "No, I want to know for myself."

"Don't Ginny," Arthur's ragged whisper was lost on his daughters ears as she sat up, he watched pained as she tugged the wrappings off. Turning to the portly man standing at the end of her cot he glared at him when he noticed the almost hateful gleam in his eyes. Arthur Weasley may have been the laughingstock of the Ministry, but when his temper was provoked he was not a man to be taken lightly. He smirked, yes smirked, as the Healer hastily exited the small curtained cubicle. Turning back to Ginny, he watched as she blinked her eyes open. The dark bruises around the once vibrant hazel eyes were made all the harsher because of the vacant look in the orbs.

"Permanent?" Ginny asked, as she touched her face carefully, shifting over on the bed when her father sat down.

"Yes," Arthur drew one of her hands away to hold between his much larger ones, "You have been out for three days, I was beginning to wonder if you would even wake up. You are not allowed to scare me like that ever again, do you understand?"

Ginny laughed, her heart shaped face drawn up in mirth gave him more joy than he had for what felt like a lifetime. Leaning forward he kissed her on the forehead, "I don't know what I would have done if I had lost you too Ginny."

"I'm not going to leave you anytime soon, I promise," Ginny folded her hands into her lap, looking for all the world like a demure young lady. But inside she was trembling, "I guess I finally get that vacation I wanted?"

Arthur nodded, then realizing the futility of the gesture looked hastily away as tears gathered in his eyes, "You'll be coming home at the end of the week, by that time I will have everything situated…so that you won't have any problems. That Healer said there was a program at St. Mungos that you could take for mobility and such."

Ginny nodded, she knew about the program having seen a few Auror's being forced into the rehabilitation program after some particularly nasty battles. Leaning back on the bed she yawned, "Sorry Dad."

"That's alright, you get some rest I'll be back tomorrow," Arthur gave her a peck on the cheek before tucking the covers around her already sleeping form. Straightening he walked stooped shoulder out of the camp, the walk of a defeated man whose last vestige of hope had finally left him.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harry Potter looked out at the small camp he had been living in for the past three weeks, the tired looking tents that weren't even magically enhanced to add to the comfort of the occupants. Smiling at the few people who were milling about he leafed through the post that had been delivered with the dawn. It had been only a month since Voldemort was finally defeated, and the relaxation that Harry had always hoped for was still a long way in coming. The Death Eaters remaining were being rounded up quickly, but they still fought as if their lord wasn't a pile of ashes. Harry was hopeful though that by the end of the fall he would be sitting in the Burrow with the Weasley's celebrating the end of the war. Walking into the tent he shared with Ron, Harry smirked at the lump sprawled on the cot.

"Post just arrived," Harry said as he threw the stack of letters for Ron on the cot that contained his best friend, "Looks like you got a letter from everyone, and two from your Dad."

Ron grunted as he pushed the covers off his face, the night before drinking bout clearly written on his face. The two men were as different from when they had first met on the Hogwarts Express as night and day. Gone were the scrawny bodies of adolescents, having hardened and shot up due to sights and sounds that no one should have been subject to. Harry's hair was still an unruly mass, but he had finally gained the muscle and height that had been un-hinted at as an eleven year old. His bright green eyes were often times shadowed by blood of battles, but his mouth was soft with a ready smile that he had long ago learned was sometimes the only thing to keep you going through the hell of life. Ron too had come in to his own; his broad muscular build put Harry's slighter form in shadows. The bright red Weasley hair was long, but like his brother Bill it suited the ruggedness of his face. Where as Harry was whip-like in his strength, Ron was like coming against a brick wall, albeit a laughing one. Ron had finally found his niche in the world, the life of a soldier was one that he had adapted to with easy that surprised everyone. Commanding and strategizing troops were his specialty, and Harry was glad that in this his friend stood in the spotlight. Holding his head Ron sat up, the covers falling to his waist as he stretched before standing up.

Harry sat down at the small desk, looking through his own post as Ron shuffled about the tent. A letter from Arthur caught his eye; usually the Weasley patriarch only wrote one of them, conveying in the letter his message to the other. Sliding a finger through the envelope Harry read the short note in disbelief. Looking up at the red head who was pouring himself a cup of coffee while he thumbed through his missives, "Ron…"

Ron looked up, setting the coffee pot down as he threw his post on the cot again. Drinking he raised an eyebrow at his friend, "What's wrong mate? You look right stunned."

Harry set the cheap parchment down with shaking hands, "It's Ginny."

Ron set his mug down; feet braced apart he tugged nervously on his ragged Chudley Cannons t-shirt. Harry stood up; his hand reaching out to offer support, even as his eyes watered, but Ron took a hasty step back. The look on his face was that made of stone, and Harry knew that though he was loved like a brother right now he wasn't one.

"Tell me," Ron ordered, his teeth clenched as he feared the worst, "She's dead."

"No," Harry shouted, wiping a hand across his wet cheeks the words tumbled out heedlessly, "She was doing mortuary duty, when she was hexed. She's blind."

Ron sank onto the cot, crushing the unopened letters beneath him as he sat dumbstruck. Hastily he stood up and began riffling through the letters till he got to the thinner one that his father had sent. Tearing it open he read the hastily written words like a dying man, Ron's guttural sob made Harry close his eyes in frustration.

"Dad says it's permanent, she is fine otherwise and coming home at the end of a week," Ron whispered, crumpling up the letter when he was finished as if thinking better of it he straightened the paper and began reading it again. Broad shoulders shaking as he sat back on the cot, holding the letter reverently in his hands, "What the fuck was she doing going through corpses anyway?"

"She's a Medi-witch, Ron. They all do mortuary duty," Harry supplied, though he wished he hadn't spoken as the red head leveled his cerulean glare on him.

"She's my baby sister; I was supposed to protect her," Ron yelled, "I was supposed to protect her from Voldemort in her first year. I was supposed to be there; she wasn't supposed to be anywhere near this bloody war. She should have been at home where she belonged."

"Can you imagine Ginny staying home when we were all risking our lives? She was doing what she could to help," Harry sat down on his own cot, still to shaken by the letter to realize anything but that the girl who he had always shoved aside was now one of the few people keeping his sanity together and it had taken her being nearly killed for him to realize how important she was to him. Neither said anything as they sat and mourned the newest victim of the War, a war they had never wanted.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco Malfoy looked up from the map he was going over; it had been five years since he had stood on the top of a tower of Hogwarts. Five years of blood and battles that he didn't have the will to fight and it was all coming down to a fight he knew he wouldn't be walking away from. Hell he had prayed for this day since he had first been given the order to kill Dumbledore. Five years of hell on earth fighting for something that he didn't have the stomach for. Looking over the almost barren room that's furnishings had been sold off to buy food and other various necessities over the years. It was hard to believe that the room he was sitting in was once his father's study. Gone were the expensive wall hangings and rugs to warm the coldness, the Persian rug was the last thing to have been sacrificed and it's lushness was greatly missed. The heavy tomes that had once filled the mahogany bookshelves had been either sold or sacrificed for firewood. It was like this in all of the Manor, no longer a place of wealth but a shell of rafters and stone as cold and foreboding as a tomb. Looking around the room, Draco glared at the dust settling on the mantle. He had long surpassed his father's height, something that had stunned him the last time they had been together. But where as his father was given to slim build, Draco had surprised even himself by filling out in the shoulders and arms. The only one of his classmates still under his command, Vincent Crabbe, had joked that Draco no longer needed him to intimidate people into doing what he wanted. The icy blonde only had to raise one eyebrow and glare down his patrician nose and he had people scurrying to do what he wanted.

Draco stood up, his back protesting after being stooped over his desk for so long. Walking to the window he stared out at the wildness that had once been his mother's flower garden. She had been the one good thing that he had counted on his entire life, and her death had been what had shocked him out of his cowering. His father had become desperate for the cause, trying to prove himself and his family of worth had ultimately been his undoing. Voldemort had sacrificed him to the Auror's closing in on them, and Lucius was once again in Azkaban. It wasn't long after that though that Voldemort had fallen under Harry Potter's wand, never realizing that Potter had destroyed his fail safe, the Horcruxes.

The sun broke wearily through the clouds, Draco winced at the dilapidated state of the grounds. He had been his father's second in command, he trained and led men into battle. He watched as friends fell dead at his feet, never once shedding a tear at the loss of life. His father had been right all along, emotions were weakness and to let ones emotions rule in the way of good common sense was foolish. No longer the pale scrawny boy that had offered friendship to Harry Potter, Draco had buried that boy along with everything else so as not to fail again. Feelings were what had made him fail on the tower top, and he had been damned if he was going to let them get in his way again. He had become a machine was what the other's whispered about him, cold methodical machine. If only they knew that he was a machine waiting for the day he would die.

Never wanting a war was one thing, as was fighting in it. Draco knew that he would be given no leniency, to many people blamed him for things that in truth he had no control over. He was tired, plain and simple tired of it all. Tired of waking up each morning to plot how to stay alive; or where he was going to attack next. Grey eyes hardening; Draco called out for the one house-elf that was still in residence, the other's having been sold to buy off officials.

"How can I help you Master," Draco didn't look at the simpering elf.

"I want to speak to Harry Potter," Draco said to the window, fingers lying cold against the planes as the sun was blotted out with grey clouds. Turning away from the window, Draco looked down at the elf, "Take me to him, Kreacher."

---------------------------------------

Ginny pushed her sunglasses up high on her forehead as she walked without hesitation towards the warmth, fingers stretched out she laughed as she came into contact with the smooth plane of glass of the windows. The rehabilitation room of St. Mungo's was wide and airy, giving Ginny the feeling of being in out in the open. She knew though every square inch, such knowledge comes from having to spend almost more than eighty hours a week in the room. Standing with her fingers splayed on the glass, Ginny smiled as she soaked up the sun coming in. Her hair falling loose of the braid she had hastily put it in, Ginny didn't realize the beauty she displayed but if she had been asked she would have scoffed at the speaker and shuffled off before they could give her anymore foolish compliments. It had been two years since she had been blinded, and just as long since the war had ended. It had actually surprised her how simple things had come to a conclusion. Draco Malfoy, the self appointed leader of the Death Eater's following his father's imprisonment and Voldemort's death, had stepped forward with terms of surrender that had been if anything beneficial to both sides. The bulk of the Death Eater's were sentenced to imprisonment, those who refused were executed. Terms of imprisonment were based on involvement, willingness to surrender, and unsurprisingly how much they could offer to buy their way out of Azkaban. This agreement was not extended to those already imprisoned, thus Lucius Malfoy remained behind bars, while his son was due to being released any day now. Ginny still felt resentment to the former Slytherin and like many believed he was getting off very easy, considering his involvement in Albus Dumbledore's death.

"Ginny," Ginny turned her head towards the person quickly closing the distance from the entrance to the rehabilitation room to the window, listening to the shoes squeak with every step, "I understand you are interested in our rehabilitation program."

Turning fully away from the window, Ginny smiled at her old friend. Pushing her sunglasses back down so that they once again obscured her vision, "Padma, it has been too long."

Padma stepped forward to embrace the younger woman. Her long black hair pulled back from her face that was just as kind and gentle as it had been in school. Pale green Healer robes, with the Head Healer insignia emblazoned on her breast were stretched tight across her growing belly, "Since the ball, I believe. But you aren't here to catch up are you?"

Ginny laughed, allowing Padma to lead her towards a chair. Ginny sat down gracefully, something she had never thought herself capable of, "I am a Healer. I feel useless just sitting at home puttering away."

Padma frowned, "Ginny you are blind. There is nothing wrong with you sitting around relaxing-."

"I am not an invalid," Ginny bit out, "I am capable. I was trained by you for Merlin's sake."

Padma laughed, "No you aren't, are you? I will see what I can do, but I am making no promises. There are few chances for a Healer who is blind you understand."

Ginny nodded, getting to her feet she unfolded the white cane she now carried with her, "I'll look forward to your owl. And tell that prat of a brother of mine to let you out more often."

Padma laughed, her hands coming to caress her protruding stomach as she walked alongside Ginny to the doors, "I will be sure to tell him, though I think Percy might be offended that you don't come visit us anymore either."

Ginny waved away the notion, "I would if you would make me some more lemon tarts."

"Trying to weasel food out of me," Padma nodded to the young man sitting at the apparition station, "Christian is working today, so I will leave you in his capable hands. Make sure to stay out of trouble."

"Goodbye Padma, I hope my nephew's don't give you to much trouble," Ginny grasped Christian's lean hand, wincing at the sweaty palm but holding tight as he apparated them to the Burrow, "Thank-you again Christian, would you like a biscuit or two before you head back?"

Christian raised startled eyebrows as he looked around the immaculate kitchen, "No thanks Miss Weasley, I best be getting back."

Ginny waved to him as he left, before sighing and turning back to the kitchen. Setting the cane aside; Ginny fished her wand out of her pocket. Holding the polished wood in her hands she set it next to her cane with a sigh. Being blind hadn't been easy to adjust to, learning to read brail and how to get around had come easier than she had expected. She had never thought she would be able to do magic, but with the help of Padma she had been able to do some elementary spells without assistance.

Walking over to the grandfather clock standing by the stairs, Ginny reached up to the clock face and gently touched the hands. Two pointed straight up towards where the twelve would have been, but death stood in its place. The smiling faces of Molly and George Weasley were forever stuck on that doomed position. Ginny moved her fingers down, checking the position of her father's and brother Ron's hands, which were moved to work and traveling respectively.

Pulling her hands down Ginny hummed as she walked back to her wand and cane, folding the white cane up she tucked it in the pocket of her skirt before setting about making dinner. Pulling the already fixed containers of roast beef and potatoes; Ginny waved her wand in the general direction of the wireless. Her humming filled the kitchen as she set the roast beef in the oven and charmed it to start. Carefully she pulled out the loaf of bread she had baked earlier that morning and began slicing it, her hand smooth and sure as she made even strokes.

"If you are trying to sneak up on me then you had better not wear that cologne again," Ginny called over her shoulder to her brother who was quietly walking across the floor.

Ron laughed, ruffling her hair he snatched a piece of bread off the cutting board before she began cutting again. Mouth full, "What's for dinner?"

"Roast beef, now get out of my way so that I can get this on the table," Ginny shoved him over, going to the table hands full with unerring accuracy. Whipping out her wand she levitated the now finished roast beef out of the oven to the table, Ron barely had time to duck before the hot dish was flying over his head. Smirking Ginny turned her back on him, "Told you to move."

"Did that on purpose," he muttered under his breath, "Mental is what you are."

"Go get cleaned for dinner," Ginny ordered, swishing her wand to make the cutlery fly out of the drawer and into her hand. She waited until Ron had stalked up the stairs to wash up for dinner before she dropped the silverware to the table top. Gasping in pain, Ginny cautiously touched the smooth cut on her palm from the knife that had been turned wrong in the drawer. Concentrating she pictured the cut in her mind, her fingers breezing over the wound, mouth whispering the healing charm. Her hand warmed for a moment before the skin began to sew itself shut, within seconds the wound was gone. Grasping the table with her newly healed hand; Ginny took a shaky breath, it was difficult enough to do a healing charm wandless but adding in the fact of being blind and out of practice was enough to drain a person of almost all energy.

"Smells good Ginny-bean," Arthur said as he dropped his briefcase onto the counter top on his way in, "Roast beef, my favorite-. Are you alright?"

Ginny waved off her father's concern, smiling at his voice she began setting the table, "Got a little winded is all. And of course it is your favorite, why do you think I made it."

Arthur kissed her cheek, Ginny breathed in the familiar scent of peppermints and sandalwood soap happily. Pulling back she grasped his hand in hers, "How was work today?"

Arthur gave out a long tired breath, making Ginny's hair fan out, "Tiring, work on the treaty isn't going as fast as either party would like."

Ginny frowned, "I thought everything was settled? I mean both Harry and Malfoy worked out the terms together. I didn't think there was room for anything else to be added or taken away."

Arthur sat down, eyes twinkling as he watched his little girl effortlessly set the table for three. Pouring drinks and making dishes fly without the slightest problem. Clearing his throat he smiled as she sat down next to him, vacant eyes hidden by her sunglasses but cheerful smile the same as when she was a child. She wasn't a child anymore though; the upturned face that was turned towards him in anticipation of his answer was that of a young woman not a little girl. The petite figure always incased in tasteful fitting clothes, curtsey of shopping trips with her various sister in laws, was that of a woman who didn't even resemble the knocked kneed girl who had sat at this very table with him so long ago. Where did the time go, Arthur wondered, where did his little girl go?

"Dad?" Ginny asked, startling Arthur out of his study of her. Hands reaching out Ginny grasped his arm, strong fingers reaching for his wrist and checking the steady thump there.

Arthur chuckled, clasping her hand in his he pulled it up to kiss the palm. Eyes widening he looked at the dried blood gathered in the creases of her hand, "What happened to your hand?"

Ginny snatched her hand back, pulling a napkin from the table she began scrubbing her skin, "Nothing, I was setting the table-."

"RON," Arthur yelled, cutting her off. Ginny flinched as her father stood up quickly, the chair scraping the floor with a screech. The sound of a slamming door and steps on the stairs had Ginny hanging her head in shame as her brother pounded into the room.

"What in the hell, Dad I was in the bloody bathroom for crying out loud," Ron's voice was loud and his frustration burned Ginny's ears.

Standing up she set the now stained napkin behind her on the table, feeling more than hearing the silent fury that was emanating from her father. Placing a sure hand on her father's shoulder, "Dad, really it's nothing."

"Where the hell were you when your sister was bleeding," Arthur shook her hand off as he glared at his son, "You know she can't do-."

"I was setting the table, not doing surgery," Ginny snapped out, "I am not a baby."

"She cut her self?" Ron asked eyes widening as he stepped forward to examine the perfectly healed hand, "Damn it Ginny, you know better than to-."

"I am twenty-two years old Ronald, and just because I am blind doesn't mean that I am incapable of doing things myself," Ginny made to snatch her hand back but Ron's grip was stronger than their father's and he held her fast. Sighing in exasperation Ginny gave up the tug of war for her own hand, "It was a simple mistake, that has been rectified."

"A simple mistake that wouldn't have happened if you didn't try to over exert yourself," Arthur pointed out, glaring at his son when Ron sent him a warning look. "What? She is blind, and the sooner she realizes that she can't do things-."

"Can't do things?" Ginny asked, turning to her father she snarled at him, "I am fully capable of taking care of myself. I made a mistake that anyone could have, in fact I remember Mum cutting herself once or twice on flying cutlery. I don't need you to baby me."

"What you need is to stop-." Arthur began only to shut his mouth when Ginny jerked from Ron's grasp and stalked from the room, "Where the hell are you going?"

"Out," Ginny hissed over her shoulder, jerking her coat on she snapped open her cane, "I think you can serve yourselves, after all you aren't handicapped."

"Ginny," Ron placed a hand on her shoulder, "Don't go like this. Come on, sit down and have dinner and then we can talk things over."

"Ron," the anger left her as soon as her brother had placed his hand on her shoulder, but the tears were still threatening. Turning to the door she snatched it open, "I just need some air, I'll be back in a moment."

"Let her go," defeated Arthur sat down at the neatly set table, "Just let her go."

Ron cursed under his breath as Ginny calmly walked out of the house, watching her petite form through the open door as she took the well worn path that led to the village. Closing the door softly he just missed seeing her hand reach up to wipe the tears from her sightless eyes.

Ginny had walked the path to St. Ottery Catchpole almost everyday of her life; the well worn contours of the old deer run were as known to her as the hallways of the Burrow. Cane skimming the road, Ginny veered off after thirty paces from the bend going sharply into the dark recesses of the woods with the surety of a sighted person. Hand outstretched she caught hold of the creeping vine that ran from the back of a giant oak to the small brook almost a hundred yards into the woods. Stepping through the hole in the under brush, Ginny sighed as she breathed the faint fragrance of wildflowers drifting up from her feet. Familiarity with the area had Ginny stowing her cane as she walked towards the small wrought iron bench she had dragged to the small clearing when she was nine. Sitting down she leaned her head back as she listened to the brook trickle by her slowly, she could almost see the small minnows darting through clear water.

A steady freckled hand reached up to remove her sunglasses, exposing the hazel eyes to the sun still drifting through the branches of the towering oaks. Setting the glasses down next to her on the bench, Ginny reached behind her to let her hair down from it's braid. Humming under her breath she bent down to her feet and plucked some of the flowers growing wild, fingers nimbly began to weave the various plants together into a crown.

Tranquility flowed through her like the water flowing through the brook, finishing the crown Ginny ran a delicate hand over the flowers that were a riot of colors and types. The weeds were sitting next to delicate buds with no self discrimination at there unworthiness, and Ginny was made all the more beautiful for the gauche display. Putting the crown on her wild curls Ginny sank down to the soft grass and reached a hand out to dip in the brook, lip caught between her teeth at the coldness of the water. Fingers stretching, and concentration focused Ginny didn't hear the twig snap. It wasn't until the slight scent of leather reached her that Ginny knew she was being watched.

Whirling around so quickly she fell back on her bum, fumbling in her skirt for her wand, "Who's there?"

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco breathed deeply, grey eyes turned to the heavens in amazement. Freedom, the idea was as foreign to him as Quidditch was to a muggle. Never in his twenty-three years had he ever been free to do anything, always he had followed orders. Shouldering the ragged bag that had been given to him by the guard, Draco turned to look one last time at the island prison that had been his home for the last two years. Strangely enough the prison had been more of a home than the Manor had ever bee. Never in his life had he had the ease with which he had been given while incarcerated. Never before had he been unafraid to fall asleep, or had he been as free. Shaking his head at that thought, the shorn blonde locks falling to his chin, it had been three months since the last time the guards had cut the prisoners hair.

His hair wasn't the only thing that had been neglected and thus had changed, though he had been given a newfound freedom in the dark halls of Azkaban he had also been given poor food. Not even in the hardest of times during the war had he eaten so poorly. So Draco had turned to the one thing that he had actually gained during the war, his ability to fight. Ironically the boy, who had relied on his friends to back him up and to enforce what he said, was now the man that sniveling weaklings had turned to take out there stronger opponents. Selling his services for food hadn't been as difficult as he had thought, it was better than becoming one of the inmates' playthings. The extra portions did nothing to help the ease the hunger that constantly racked his body in the first months. But gradually he had trained himself to go without, and though he had lost some muscle mass he was probably more formidable than he had been before.

Pulling out his wand, Draco marveled for a moment at the feel of the light piece of wood in his hand. Two long years he had been without it, not having to rely on his fists for getting what he wanted was going to be something he knew would be hard to relearn. Though for the life of him Draco actually resented the need for magic, it had only caused pain for him. Magic had marked his family for generations as different; the Dark Arts had given them a sense of power that exalted them over their peers. Then magic had led them down a path that now he was the only one who had survived.

With disgust he apparated away from the island; landing in front of the ruins of his childhood home. Pushing the massive oak door open, Draco dropped his small rucksack on the dusty leaf strewn floor. Footsteps echoing across the empty hall Draco inspected what was left of his home, a house he hadn't even expected to come home to. Most of his property had been auctioned off by his lawyers to pay for his early release, his father having ordered it so. Draco had almost thanked the old man for that, but he knew it was more that his father was waiting for Draco to help him being as his son had had a better chance at release than him in the first place had nothing to do with it. Resolutely Draco stepped through the broken glass of the French doors in the dining room and breathed the fresh air provided by wild garden that had once been so manicured.

A ghost of a smile lighted his eyes, even if it didn't hint at his lips. Setting off at a brisk pace he followed the pebbled stones choked by grass through the winding path was the garden. Quickly turning off the path to the even more obscure one that lead off into what remained of the vast woods that had once been apart of his ancestral home. Lost in the simple fact that he was freely walking out in the open had his feet falling farther than he had ever cared to venture before. Bending down to soak his one hander-kerchief in the first stream he came upon, Draco sent a cautious eye to woods about him. The sun was no longer as high in the sky as when he had first started out, something that made him frown at his own inattention to time. But the fact that he was in unfamiliar land had him checking the woods for any sign of life other than flora or fauna.

Wiping his face with the soaked rag, Draco closed his eyes in the simple pleasure. His ears perking up instantly in second nature to his vulnerability and with the slightest of breezes he heard the soft song. Still crouched he turned towards the slight sound, breathing shallow and perfectly still as to ascertain the source of the noise. Rising he crept silently through the dense underbrush, ignoring the sting from the brambles.

The first thing he notices was red, shining waves of red. Grey eyes narrowing he watched as a pale hand brushed through the red curls falling carelessly to the lower back of the sitting girl. Draco had seen women in prison, they had been kept separate from the men but the hardships were the same. And in the end the women inmates were not distinguishable from the men, but this woman sitting so gracefully in the midst of the flowered glen was like a fallen angel to his starved eyes. Moving around her quietly, but keeping to the shadows that were offered by the towering trees, Draco watched as she discarded a pair of sunglasses on the bench. Her slim fingers reaching down to gather flowers from the forest floor plucking the most common weeds along with little or no sense. Almost against his will did he push forward, wanting to see the face hidden by hair so tempting that it had his fingers itching to run through it.

Shifting on the balls of his feet, Draco crouched behind the cover an oak. Sweat began to bead on his forehead, his stomach growled in hunger, but he refused to move. A wood nymph, yes that was what she was, his mind whirling with the mystical beauty of the girl woman sitting before him. Red hair framed a full heart shaped face that was innocently beautiful; as though she had never grown up and was caught in the stages of half woman, half child. Her imperfections were made all the more beautiful by the simplistic beauty she offered. Though her nose was a little to narrow, it was countered by high cheekbones and a full bottom lip that he wanted to taste. Her body was temptingly soft, it had been far to long since he had felt anything as deliciously soft as the satin of the skin displayed for him by a peasant skirt and modest shirt.

The crown on her head only made his blood run hotter and for him to recklessly start moving forward. His feet abandoning their silent tread as he crept forward, want overriding his common sense. His carelessness cost caused him not to see the twig, and with its crack he felt his world collapse.

The nymph fell backwards, her hands scrambling at her skirt for what he could only assume was her wand. Frowning he watched as wide eyes raised to his, knowing he was caught he straightened. Her voice trembled as she called out, "Who's there?"

Raising an eyebrow at her, Draco found his mouth forming a smirk, "I didn't mean to startle you."

Wand raised with a sure hand, the girl drew in a ragged breath, "What are you doing sneaking up on someone like that then?"

Stepping fully into the clearing, Draco felt his stomach lurch as her head cocked to the side listening while hazel eyes stared vacantly into the brush. His perfect angel was blind.

Clearing his throat he looked down at the brook that separated them, avoiding the question he snapped out, "What is a blind girl sitting in the woods alone for?"

Her laugh was dark with secrets contrasting with her innocent face. Slowly she lowered her wand, though he was pleased to note she didn't relinquish her hold on the slim piece of wood. Blank eyes staring at him she sobered, "Are you scared for me? How very noble, to be scared for a girl you don't even know."

Noble, Draco scoffed at the word. He had never been called noble in his life. Cowardly, murderer, evil, traitor, these were all words that had been used abundantly but never noble.

As if sensing his uneasy with her words her smile widened, "You're not noble? Are you here to take advantage of me then?"

"Are you always this forward with perfect strangers," his tone was harsh, but she just smiled a siren's smile at him.

"No," she paused as if thinking hard about her answer, brow furrowed in concentration, "Sometimes I just throw them down and have my way with them."

The sound that escaped his mouth could be considered more of a cough than a laugh. She smirked at the sound, gloating up at him. His throat tightened, cutting off the sound harshly, "You shouldn't speak so to strangers."

"If you would tell me your name then you won't be a stranger," he watched as she climbed to her feet, wand slipping back into the skirt discreetly. Hand reaching out stiffly in his general direction, "I'll start things off, I'm Ginny Weasley."

His heart, if he could still call that organ by that blasphemous name, stopped for a moment. A moment in time where his life seemed to fall into place, and he found himself realizing just how cruel the gods could be. The urge to just run away was as strong in him as it had been when he was sixteen years old and standing on a tower with a man who he had been ordered to kill. Coldness seeped in him as he looked at the pale hand extended to him over the too great a distance separating them.

"Are you still there?" Her tone was light and teasing, but Draco could hear the slight note of worry. Easily his long legs stretched the small brook and he was on the other side being assailed by the softness that was now easily within reach.

His once elegant hand, now rough and coarse looking enclosed hers in a firm grip, "I'm still here."

Still holding hands, he studied her trying to remember the small freckled girl he had first laid eyes on in Flourish & Blotts. Her head tilted to the side in silent question as he remained silent; opening his mouth he said the first thing that came to his mouth, "Darcy."

"It's nice to meet you Darcy," her smile was worth his lie. Quickly though he withdrew his hand, wanting nothing more than to be back in his cell than standing with the nymph that was his enemy.

"Ginny," the voice rang out through the now almost dark woods, causing Draco to stiffen and Ginny to turn expectantly towards the trees.

"My brother," she whispered, though he had recognized the voice even if he hadn't recognized the girl before him. Bending she picked up her sunglasses, settling them on top her hair among the flowers, "How dark is it?"

Glancing up at the tree tops, Draco was somewhat shocked to note how far the sun had gone down, "Dark enough, you best go before he breaks his neck stepping into a hole."

As if in agreement, Ron's bellow reached the glade with renewed vigor, "Ginny where are you?"

Sighing, Ginny called out towards his voice, "Coming."

She began to walk sure footed towards the path, stopping with her hand on the bushes to push them back, "Thank you."

Startled Draco stepped forward, "For what?"

"For not treating me like an invalid," with that she disappeared into the underbrush, leaving a silent confused man in her wake.

Draco was still standing there long after Ginny had disappeared through the trees, only when his stomach growled in hunger did he begin the long journey back to the Manor. The moon was well settled in the sky by the time he pushed open the door to the sprawling monstrosity. Throwing his ragged jacket on the floor, seeing as there was no elf to take it, or any other place to put it, Draco paused as he listened to the quiet. In prison he had gotten so use to the tears, screams, and other noises of the other prisoners that the stillness of the house seemed like a welcome relief.

Making his way to the kitchens, he rummaged through the dusty cabinets finding what looked to be some homemade preserves and a stale box of crackers. Hopping up on the counter he popped the jar of preserves open and dug in with the cracker. Taste wasn't high on his priorities, but the stale crackers and raspberry preserves tasted like manna from heaven. Looking around at the magically lit room, he had actually been surprised when the candles and fireplace had roared to life when he walked in; apparently the charms surrounding the house were still in place. The large kitchen that had once housed over thirty elves was now a skeleton of what its former grandeur. As soon as he could he would begin to clean and rebuild the house, he thought as he looked at the broken windows and falling plaster from the walls.

First things first, he would need a decent place to sleep, finishing his dinner he trudged up to his old room. Standing in the doorway, he looked around the peeling wallpaper and rat droppings littering the floor, with a sigh he turned away. Grabbing his coat he transfigured it into blanket; thin but long enough to cover him. Walking out to the garden he settled himself on a soft part of ground, arms pillowed behind his head he stared up at the sky. His first night of freedom and he might as well be homeless, but staring up at the vast expanse of sky overhead he couldn't bring himself to care.

-----------------------------------------------------------

"Hermione," Harry called out as he walked into the library of Grimmauld Place, a hand waved to him from the couch set before the fire, "Have you seen my grey sweater?"

The brunette looked up at him over the top of her book, bundled in an overlarge grey sweater and pajama bottoms and grinning sheepishly, "Would it be the grey sweater that you got for your birthday?"

"Thanks for telling me that you borrowed it," Harry grumbled as he did an about-face back to his room to look for another shirt to wear. Calling over his shoulder, "Remember to wash it this time, last time it smelled like flowers and I got the strangest looks at work."

Hermione rolled her eyes before returning to her book, thinking better of it she rolled off the couch and trotted behind him. Pushing the door to his room open, she leaned against the doorjamb, "Are you going to go see Ron?"

Harry turned from his bureau, undershirt half on and glasses askew, "Maybe, you going to come out of hiding to see him?"

Shifting on the balls of her feet, she looked down, "Has he asked about me?"

Pulling a shirt over his head, he bent to pull his shoes on, "More like he has asked about everything but you."

Hermione flinched at his choice of words, lips thinning in anger, "Don't sugar coat it for me or anything."

"You cheated on him with his brother, his married brother what do you want him to do? Come crawling back to you on his hands and knees begging you to take him back. You want the truth? The truth is that you should be the one begging him, or move on," Harry angrily snatched his wand up glaring at her, "Do something because I am tired of you moping around here."

"Harry," Hermione began only to be cut off by Harry as he pushed his way by her, "Wait, please wait."

"I tried to be the good friend in this, I didn't take either of yours side. Now though I can't for the life of me remember why," Turning as he reached the front door he jerked his coat on, "Why him? Why did you pick Fred? I mean of all the people you could have-why Fred?"

Tears were pouring down her face as Hermione hugged her arms around herself, "I don't know. I was lonely okay, is that what you want to hear? Ron hadn't touched me in months-."

"He was exhausted from work and taking care of his sister, you remember Ginny. The girl who was struggling with being recently blinded," Harry yelled, not caring that the woman in front of him was like a sister. Finally letting loose the anger that he had held in for the past two years, "You fucked up Hermione, now grow the hell up and face it."

He left her sobbing in his house, apparating away before he could damage their friendship anymore. Appearing just outside the wards of his destination he shook his shoulders before walking towards the dark house. Raising his hand he pounded on the door, listening to it echo inside of the empty house.

He was raising his hand to pound for the fifth time, "What do you want Potter?"

Shoulders stiffening Harry turned to the corner of the house, "Part of your parole agreement, an Auror comes and checks up on you randomly."

Harry glared as the blonde just turned on his heel and walked back around the house, letting out a frustrated growl he followed. Surprised to see Draco standing on the patio surrounded by muggle power tools and lumber. Looking around Harry knew he was gaping but he couldn't bring himself to close it. Draco began measuring out a board, his hands sure and quick with the pencil and tape. Harry was stunned as he watched the man garbed in ratty jeans and a t-shirt work, Draco Malfoy was working like a muggle.

"Potter," Draco bit out causing Harry to jump a little in surprise, "Are you going to stand there all day or is there something you wished to discuss?"

"Oh right," hands reaching into his coat he pulled out the shrunken folder, a tap of his wand and it was restored to its rather thick normal state. Leafing through the papers he coughed as he quickly scanned the terms of Draco's release, "As per the truce at the end of the war and your release conditions, you are to report to the Ministry every month for a veriterserum administered questioning. You are not allowed to conduct magic between the hours of nine p.m. and six a.m.-."

Draco dropped the tape measure and pencil, moving the board to the table saw he ignored Harry as he sliced through the wood. Harry moved closer so that he could be heard, "You are to submit to random searches of your home, and if necessary be detained for two weeks without question if any contraband is found within the premises of your remaining property."

Draco picked the board up; walking into the open French doors Harry did a double take before following him. Walking quickly behind the silent blond he cast quick glances around the mansion, shocked at the damage and neglect he saw.

Draco was kneeling next to a section of wall in what appeared to having once been the library, hands already fitting the board into place on the bottom of a broken set of bookcases. Looking around Harry looked at the few repairs that had already been made, and the more recent damage that could only have been done by Draco himself.

The board secure Draco set his tools aside as he leaned against the wall, noting the give in the sheetrock and frowning as he realized the damage that termites had done. Turning his attention back to Harry though he ignored the need in him to finish the room; "Is that all Potter?"

Nodding his head Harry looked at the crude fix to the only piece of furniture, a cinder block placed under the uneven leg of a Louis XIV desk. Fingers running over the saw dust and dirt covering the surface, "What are you trying to do here Malfoy?"

"Trying? I am trying nothing, simply making this place livable again," Draco ran a hand along the bookshelf he had already finished redoing, "This place is mine, and nothing will take that from me again."

Nodding, Harry shifted towards the door, "Well then, umm, I guess that's all for today. I will be checking in on you in a few weeks."

Harry felt Draco's cold stare on him as he walked out the library, pausing in the doorway, "Your first scheduled appointment at the ministry is for this Thursday at one."

Silence was his answer and Harry couldn't help but think that even with veritraserum in him Draco wouldn't talk. Leaving the Manor he quickly walked down the weed choked drive leading to the gates. Apparating as quickly as he could away from the desolate place and the equally despondent man working in silence.

---------------------------------------

-----------------------------------------------------------

A.N. So I had to take a mind break from my other story for a moment and write something new. For everyone reading this who is currently reading my other story, don't worry I am still working on it. I realized that I am far from finished with it. I just need to get this little plot bunny out of my head before I lost it. I hope that everyone enjoys!! Lots of love to those of you who review, it makes for sad times when you don't.


	2. Chapter 2

Ginny stretched her arms above her head, pajama top falling off her shoulder as she sat up. The warmth of the sun told her it was later than she usually woke, frowning she hurriedly dressed. She was putting her hair up in a pony tail as she walked down the stairs when she smelled it; the smell burnt food was so strong that she was gagging as she walked down the stairs and into the kitchen.

"What did you try to cook?" Ginny asked as she walked over to the icebox and grabbed a bottle of water. Walking over to the stove she shoved her brother aside as she opened the bottle and poured a little into the still smoking pan. Sniffing the air, "Scrambled eggs?"

"Shove it," Ron grumbled as he watched the brown bits floating in the water, "Mum never taught me the cooking charms."

"For good reason, you prat." Giving him a grin she took a swig of water and walked over to the table, "You always over did the wand movements, she knew you would have the knives flying with the simplest of spells."

Hand skimming over the fruit bowl, she selected an apple and tossed it at his head. Ron took a bite, mouthful, "Thanks, what are you doing up so late?"

Ginny shrugged; turning away to select her own piece of fruit, peeling an orange she turned back to Ron, "Aren't you late for work?"

"Have the day off, thought I would do a bit of gardening," Ron watched her pile the peel up on the table before segmenting the fruit and eating, "What about you, got any big plans?"

Relishing the tangy fruit Ginny got up from the table, "I was thinking about going down to the village and seeing if I could help out Reinhardt or something. Don't worry I'll be back by dinner."

Ron grabbed her hand as she walked by him, "I-."

Ginny's upturned face pleaded with him, Ron bit back what he was going to say, "Just be back in time to cook dinner I would hate for it to suffer the same fate as those eggs. Remember everyone is coming over tonight, I don't think my nephew would like me as much if he had to scrape his meatloaf before he could eat it."

Ginny laughed as she grabbed her cane and wand, sunglasses securely placed on her head she set out for the village with a smile and a wave.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco groaned as he rolled out of his makeshift sleeping bag, the sun was barely poking through the trees but he had too much work to do for him to laze around in his bed. Standing up he glared up at the partially caved in ceiling of the study that he was sleeping in, the rain last night had prevented him from enjoying the open sky as he had been since the first night of being freed. Walking forward he peered up at the ceiling with a decisive look, he would have to go to town and get some more supplies if he wanted to finish it before the end of the week. Running a hand through his hair Draco walked out of the study and to the kitchen, surprised to find a hot pot of coffee and breakfast waiting for him already.

"Master, I thought you would like breakfast in the dinning room," Draco whirled around, his eyes widening as he looked at the small elf standing in a dirty rag next to the empty china cabinet. Wide yellow eyes set in a grotesquely wrinkled face, Draco watched as the elf poured a cup of coffee and offered it to him. Taking the mug from him, Draco sniffed the black liquid cautiously eyes not leaving the elf as he took a small sip. The roast of the beans burst on his tongue, the welcome richness that was once so familiar was now foreign.

"This is good," Draco raised the white chipped mug, "Kreacher, correct?"

"I am honored Master remembers me," Kreacher bowed low, his bat like ears scraping the stone floor, "Kreacher is very honored."

"I haven't seen you here for the past week, where were you?" Draco asked as he took another sip. Leaning against the counter he watched as Kreacher began filling a plate with piping hot food from the various pots and pans resting on the now shinning stove.

"I was," Kreacher strained; his voice choking and face contorting with obvious pain.

Draco looked on mildly amused for a moment as Kreacher struggled to talk, rolling his eyes at the elf's theatrics, "Enough, it doesn't matter."

Finishing his coffee he took the proffered plate from the elf's hands, "See what you can do with this kitchen. The rest of the house don't touch though, understand?"

Kreacher nodded, relief flooding his face as he watched his master begin to eat greedily from the plate. Draco finished the plate standing up, it had been far too long since he had eaten anything this rich and he knew later it would get to him but now he was enjoying every moment.

Setting his plate down on the counter Draco rolled his shoulders as he headed to the back door, "I am going to town for a moment. I will want lunch when I return."

The elf smiled as the door slammed shut; humming happily he set about work. Kreacher was happily serving the noble house of Black; quite gladly he set about his chores. With a determined look in his eyes the old elf began to work.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco glared at the man, "What do you mean I can't buy the damn teak? We had an agreement."

"I know sir," Martin Sanford stifled the urge to shiver under the cold silver gaze, "But I was unaware of Madame Rosinika needing it."

"I don't bloody care if the old bat wanted it or not, you promised it to me two days ago," Draco growled stepping forward to emphasize his point, "Now are you wanting to be known as unreliable? You won't be able to sell a toothpick to a bloody dentist by the time I am through with you if that is the case."

Martin threw his hands up, "Take it damn it. Take it all; just get the hell out of my store."

Draco smirked as he shrank the pile of lumber under question and placed it in his old money pouch. Retrieving fifty galleons, "Here, and next time don't try to make me up my price."

Frowning, the burly man snatched the money from him, "Was it that obvious?"

Draco gave him a look that had Martin smiling at him from behind his woolly brown beard. Scratching his chin Martin put the money in his own money pouch as the two men walked to the front of the lumber yard, "You know you are robbing me with that price?"

Draco nodded, his eyes lighting on a stack of Cyprus, "You over charge, that lot there is probably over marked as well."

"If you are short on funds," Draco glared at him but Martin stumbled on, "You could always do some carpentry work around the village and such. Magic is excellent, but some prefer the hands on approach. Stop glaring at me, I know what situation you are in which is the only way that I let you talk me down to that price on the teak."

Draco turned away shame burning his eyes but the fact that he had known Martin since he was a child prevented him from burying his fist in the older man's face. Martin Sanford had come with his father to the Manor to fix the banister on the east wing, the burly nineteen year old had intrigued him. Draco had shadowed the two men the entire week that they had worked on the banister, watching as they worked with their hands to coax the wood into its elegant new shape. He had all but forgotten his fascination with woodworking until his second year; his father had sent him to work for the Sanfords as punishment for some slight or another. And thus Draco's interest was provoked, and an unholy obsession was born. Now years later it was paying his bills, a punishment actually paid off ironically. It was that connection that prevented Draco from pounding his fist into the older man's face, instead he said his goodbyes curtly and walked out of the less than tidy yard.

Hands stuffed in pockets Draco set off towards the Manor, bypassing the crowds gathered in front of store fronts and avoiding eye contact. A flash of color in the corner of his eye made him stop, he watched as Ginny said goodbye to a frail looking shop keeper. This was the second time he had watched her without her knowing but something in him was being drawn towards the small red head. Discreetly he followed after her small figure, watching as her cane skimmed the road. Ginny turned her face up, her smile breathtaking even from the distance separating them.

Draco watched as she paused to call a greeting to a group of children that were playing in a rather large mudpuddle. His eyes narrowed as he observed the slick patch of road just up ahead of her, understanding his feet began moving faster. But even as he sped up he watched her step falter on the slick mud.

Ginny's yelp was cut off as strong arms closed around her middle, holding her firmly on her feet and against a strong chest. Adrenaline from the almost fall pumping her blood faster, Ginny took a deep breath and was almost immediately assaulted by leather and the smell of fresh cut wood.

"Darcy," her breathy whisper had his arm tightening around her middle, a smile curving her lips as she turned her face up towards his, "I was beginning to think I had imagined you."

Draco cleared his throat awkwardly, loosening his grip on her, "You should be more careful."

"Really? How do you know this wasn't some ploy to get you to come rescue me," Ginny asked, the smile growing wider as he let out a harsh breath causing the loose hairs around her face to flutter.

"If this was a ploy then I am the Minister," Draco cursed realizing he had fallen for her trap. Setting her back on her feet he held her elbow in his hand as he walked them away from the slick mud, "Just be more careful."

Ginny shifted her arm, hand grasping his hand in hers, "I rather like being rescued by you though."

Draco stared down at her, uncomfortable with her soft touch he tried to release himself.

Ginny was having none of that, tightening her grip, "Where have you been hiding?"

"I haven't been hiding," he snapped frustrated that she wouldn't let go of his hand, and at himself for enjoying the innocent touch, "I was working."

Her face screwed up in consideration, "What are you building?"

Draco stopped so suddenly that Ginny stumbled for a moment, his fingers tightening on hers, "How do you know I am building anything?"

Her face colored, "I can smell you."

His stillness indicated that he was offended, Ginny hastened to explain, "The wood, you smell like leather and fresh cut wood. I assumed you were working on something."

Satisfied Draco began walking again, though he did lean down to sniff himself cautiously earning a laugh from his companion. If he had the ability to blush he would, instead he steered her towards the path that led to her house, "Do you know how tempting it is for me to just throw you into that mud puddle?"

"What kind of knight in shining armor throws his damsel into mud?" Ginny gasped out, her feet hurrying to match his longer ones.

"I never said I was a knight, little one," Draco pushed her down the road towards her house, "Now go on home before I decide to feed you to a dragon."

Ginny turned back to him her cane clutched in her hand, "What if I don't want to go home?"

"Then go to your spot in the woods," wanting nothing more than to be away from her smile and the surprises that she kept throwing at him. Turning away he began down the fork that led to his own home. It only took him a few minutes to realize that she was following him, whirling around he glared at her though it didn't do much good, "What the hell are you doing?"

"Walking," Ginny replied as if the answer was quite obvious, "It is a fine sunny day and it was recommended for me to walk as much as possible on such days."

"Really, and well why don't you turn around and begin walking in that direction," Draco ordered as he physically turned her around. Once again dismissing her he turned back around it, "Goodbye little one."

The swish of the cane through the air and the steady thump of her feet growing closer instead of further away met his ears. Throwing up his hands in frustration, "I give up, bloody nuisance. Fine you can come."

"Who says I was wanting to come with you," Ginny remarked as she walked past him her hitting him with her cane as she passed. Draco glowered at her back, but Ginny kept walking forcing Draco to catch up. Ginny's brow wrinkled up as she asked, "But if I was going to go with you, where exactly are we going? I don't remember this path."

"My house," Draco answered automatically, helping her over a log in the middle of the path.

"Really, I thought I knew everyone in the neighborhood," Ginny pondered as they began walking again, "Have you lived here long?"

Draco bite his cheek, quickly he back peddled, "It was my grandfather's, I just recently came back into the country."

"Oh," Ginny accepted his explanation without a second thought.

Draco shook his head at her easy acceptance, she was far to trusting for her own good. Soon though he was leading her through the broken gate of Malfoy Manor, her cane discarded to her pocket as she trusted him to steer her through the tall grasses.

"Here," Draco steered her into the open doors of the empty parlor that he was currently working on, "This is the parlor, its pretty empty."

"I smell resin," Ginny walked around the empty room, fingers running along the freshly dried restored wainscoting. Draco watched her walk around the room that he had only partially worked on, "Paint too."

"I redid the walls," Draco stuffed his hands into his pockets, watching as she walked around the empty room.

"What colors is it?" Her face turned towards him, Draco felt his stomach jump.

Walking over to her he held her hand in his guiding her fingers tracing them along the different aspects of the room, "The main part of the wall is a pale sage. And this, the wainscoting is made from maple that is stained a rich brown."

Pulling her against him, he let their fingers trace down to the floor, "The wood is scratched, but soon I will restore the shine. And this," the cold stone of the mantle, "is marble, it's chipped in places but with the right amount of care it will be just as I remembered. Pale ivory with gold veins running through it."

"It sounds beautiful," Ginny whispered leaning back against his chest as his fingers caressed hers, "I wish I could see it."

Draco let his nose fall into her hair, sniffing the flowery fragrance cautiously. His eyes closed as she leaned further against him, her backside pressing against him. Realizing who he was holding, Draco stiffened and pulled away, "I have a lot of work to do."

Ginny was left standing as he quickly left the room, her call of Darcy fell on an empty room.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He could hear her, as he sanded the putty that he had used to fix the new gapes in the sheetrock and the wall. She was singing, not a holy chorus of angels, but a rather bawdy camp song that was slightly off-tune and made his ears burn at some of the language. Throwing the hand sander down Draco stalked from the room, following the tune all the way to the kitchen. Ginny was happily scrubbing a pot as Kreacher stood by shaking his head at the girl, Draco watched her with her sunglasses off and her eyes closed as she threw her head back on a particularly high note. Wincing Draco, couldn't take it anymore, "Are you trying to scare the dirt away with that noise?"

Ginny dropped the pot, whirling around she blushed, "Sorry, I was bored just sitting up there. Your house elf though isn't very talkative."

"He doesn't like strangers," Draco supplied sending Kreacher a look that had the elf squeaking as he hurried about his chores, "Now why are you scrubbing dirty pots?"

"I," throwing the rag and pot into the sink, "I was seeing if perhaps I could distract you."

Draco was stunned, falling back a step, "Well then, umm-."

"I bet you are blushing," Ginny suggested walking over with her hands behind her back and a smile curving her cheeks, "Can I see?"

Once again she stunned him, her hands reaching forward to check for herself. His pulse sped up, as her fingers just brushed his cheeks. Jerking back, Draco reached up and grabbed her wrists in his hands, vice-like grip preventing her from moving any further.

"It's getting late," Draco whispered, his voice harsher than he would have wanted. "Here I'll take you to the path."

Ginny bit her lip as she followed behind him, "Did I do something wrong?"

"No," Draco snapped, make short work of the all but hidden path that led to the Burrow, soon he could see the house leaning against the skyline, "Your house is straight ahead, this is the old rabbit trap path."

Ginny nodded, brow scrunching as she concentrated. Her cane snapping out with a flick of her wrist, "Thank-you for an interesting day, I hope that I wasn't too much of a nuisance."

The words of telling her just how much of a nuisance she was were on the tip of his tongue, but instead he simply grunted and headed back into the woods.

"Darcy," Draco groaned as he turned to face her, her hair falling down from its tie and her cheeks rosy from the half run, "I was hoping if it isn't to much of a trouble if I might stop by some time to visit?"

"Visit?" His gruff response should have her crestfallen but instead she grinned impishly.

"Thanks, I will see you soon," with that she was off towards the house, and a confused Draco was left standing in the shadows of the trees wondering what in the hell just happened and how he could fix it. Having Ginny Weasley as a regular guest was not something that he had ever imagined, and for the life of him he couldn't figure out how it had happened in the first place.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Harry, if you are going to be in my way at least be useful," frustrated Ginny shoved past him for the third time, "Here set the table."

Harry took the bowl of salad from her, smiling sheepishly, "Sorry, next time you shouldn't make something that taste so damn good."

Ginny swatted his hand away from the stove, "Go before this pasta is on your head."

"Are we late?" Fred called out as he and a heavily pregnant Luna walked in with their one year old son, George. Fred gave his sister a peck on the cheek while Luna sat down at the table, "Sorry, Georgie here decided it was time to play hide and seek."

"Hello darling," Ginny cooed as Georgie tugged at her skirt, "Give me a moment and I will play I promise. Luna, how are the twins?"

"Kicking, I expect they will be as much trouble as a pack of nargles," her dreamy voice wasn't as absentminded as it had been in school. Too many horrors had been seen for her ever to be fully lost to the waking world again. Taking a deep breath she sighed, "I smell your mum's sauce, I thought you had forgotten."

Georgie yelped as he walked around his aunt's feet, his bright strawberry curls bouncing as he grasped her skirt to keep his balance. Harry set the salad down before Luna, giving her a one armed hug, laughing as she pulled him down to ask him about an interview possibility with The Quibbler.

"Ginny I couldn't find my brown slacks anywhere," Ron's voice shouted down the stairs, "Where did you say they were?"

Ginny gave the spoon to stir the sauce over to Fred, picking Georgie up she set the little boy on her hip, "Come one Georgie-boy let's go help Uncle Ron find his britches."

Harry waited until Ginny was out of ear shot before joining Fred at the stove, "I need to talk to you for a moment."

"Sure," Fred gave him a closed look, turning he smiled at Luna, "Luna can you possibly not eat the sauce for a moment while Harry and I go for a bit of fresh air."

Smiling Luna heaved herself up with her husbands help, "I will make no promises. And while your out in the garden could you grab me some of those pears. I have been craving some sliced pears and peanut butter."

Harry shook his head as the two men left the blonde alone with the bubbling pot of tomato sauce. Motioning towards the pear tree, Harry followed after Fred. Neither talking until they were at the tree.

"So what is this all about?" Fred asked as he began picking fruit.

"Malfoy," Harry picked up a rotten pear and threw it towards the fence, a shriek from a garden gnome made him smile, "He was put on my docket about a week ago. The stupid prat hasn't changed, but at the same time-."

"Are you feeling sorry for him?" Fred asked, his shirt pulled up to form a pouch for the fruit, he made a comical expression his shirt full of fruit and the grave expression on his face, "You told Ron that you pity the bastard yet? You remember this is the same man who killed Dumbledore? The same man who killed my brother? Did you forget how he hit George with the killing curse when he was already wounded, just for fucking sport."

"I know what happened, I was there too. I still have nightmares about it, about the blood," Harry all but shouted, his temper only restrained by the fact that Ron and Ginny could now be heard in the kitchen with Luna. Glaring at Fred, "I know what he did, and that is why I am telling you first that I am his case worker, because out of all of them in there you are the only one who will take this the hardest."

Fred looked at him for a moment, his mouth opening like he wanted to say something but thought better of it. Quietly he began towards the house, murmuring under his breath, "Best get these to Luna before she fusses."

"Fred," Harry called after him, when the older man stopped instead of turning Harry started forward, "I don't trust him, that's why I am taking the case at all. Even if we did work together for peace, I don't trust him."

Fred nodded before continuing back inside, his smile firmly in place as he walked in the door.

Harry cursed, leaning against the tree he jumped when Ginny called him to dinner, "Coming."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Padma leaned against the baby crib, it was run down from having already passed through the hands of Bill's children and Fred's Georgie before coming to their small three bedroom house. The pastel blue walls with there fresh coat of paint and the small teddy bears decorations was as tasteful as it was inexpensive.

"Just think in only one more month he will be laying there," Percy came to wrap his arms around her, his hands caressing her stomach as he nuzzled her neck.

"You were late for dinner again," Padma's voice was tinged with worry even though she tried to keep it light.

Percy angled his head to see her; he had long since out grown his skeletal bony frame. Though he didn't have the muscle mass that most of his family had, instead his lean tall frame was sometimes awkward but suited him. The fact that his pretty wife liked him as is helped soothe his sometimes ruffled feathers gained around his more rambunctious siblings. Reaching up he brushed a stray strand of hair from her cheek, his hand lingering to caress the light nutmeg skin before falling to rest on her waist once more.

"I was re-reading the peace agreements with Dad," Percy said, straightening he steered her towards the door; "I would like to discuss these names you have picked out."

"Manprasad is non negotiable, it was my father's name and as his first grandson it should be his," Padma glared up at him, "It is a family name and-."

"I am not saying that we should throw it out the door all together but," Percy held his hands up to pacify the hormonal witch, "I was thinking that perhaps we could make it a middle name, perhaps."

His tone was hopeful, but Padma's glare was unrelenting as she stalked off. Throwing his hands up he walked into the living room of their small house, "Padma please, I-."

The hooded man raised his wand slowly, his grip on Padma's throat tightening as Percy stepped fully into the room. The dark piece of wood gleaming in the dancing light from the fireplace, "Such a pretty wife you have Mister Weasley."

"Please," Percy held his hands out, taking a tentative step forward. Jerking to a stop when the hooded man's wand turned from himself to Padma's stomach, "What ever you want you can have, just let her go."

Padma closed her eyes as the man's grip tightened his head lowering as he pulled her head back to rest on his shoulder, "Such a waste of beauty. Tell me Mrs. Weasley did your husband make you scream with passion, or did you have to fake it? I wonder if the brat is even his, come on tell us who did you spread those pretty thighs. Because if you ask me I don't think the Weasel has it in him to even get it up let alone impregnate anyone."

Percy's hand inched towards his wand, only stopping when he saw the wand tip press harder against the belly of his wife. Clearing his throat, Percy choked out, "Tell me what you want."

"What I want is my life back," the scarred palm loosened it's hold on Padma's throat, moving down he caressed her heaving breast before moving back up to grip her by her braid, "So very beautiful. Why don't we sit down and have a nice chat, after you Weasel."

Percy cautiously sat down in his favorite leather armchair, watching as Padma was situated on the loveseat opposite him. His light blue eyes locked with her wide mahogany ones, searching for any sign of pain or discomfort and only finding the fire of indignation and traces of fear. Their hooded guest stood in between them, his wand twirling in his fingers for a moment before turning to point at Padma.

Percy stiffened, his hands clenching the armrests of the chair, his eyes wide, "Don't."

"Your wand Mister Weasley," Percy fumbled for a moment, eyes locked on his wife's pale face as he handed it over. Pocketing the ash stick in his robes, he paced around the room coming to rest behind Padma. "Tell me Weasel, did you tell your lovely wife how in the war you sold out your friends to get away from the Death Eaters?"

"I never-," Percy began but he was cut off when the man sent a silencing spell at him. Hands going to his throat he mouthed aimlessly for a moment before conceding defeat and slumping back in the chair. His eyes shadowed as he looked at the man standing so calmly behind his silently crying wife.

"It isn't polite to interrupt people," his wand lowering, he played with Padma's hair, "Now how about a bedtime story for the little one?"

Percy's glare and Padma's shudder seemed to satisfy him, "Not so long ago a young man came to his friend and asked him to help him on a very important mission. This mission was meant to stop the fighting of a great war, and as a good friend he readily agreed to help. The two friends began to plan, a plan that would expose the corrupt leaders and generals who were hiding within their ranks. But one day the young man was caught as he copied files from the desk of his superior, and when asked who he was working with he named his friend readily. He led the traitors to his friend, and when his friend shouted out to him for help he turned his back and ran. He was the one to get his friend involved and he left him there to be tortured and to die like a dog."

"No," Padma croaked out, "Percy wouldn't-."

His slap was so sudden that Percy didn't even see it coming, jumping out of his chair he ran towards his wife. The full body bind caught him after a few feet, falling to the ground as still as a plank Percy watched as Padma raised her tear soaked face to the man behind her. The blood leaking out the corner of her mouth, made his blood boil, rage coursed through him as he tried to fight off the hex.

Picking her up by her arm, the man shouted in her face, "I was there, he sold me out. Sold me out so that he wouldn't be tortured. Your darling husband left me for dead, I trusted him and he betrayed me."

"I'm sorry," Padma moaned as he began to shake her to emphasize his point, "I didn't know. I'm so sorry."

"I believe you," he released her watching as she sank down next to Percy with a sob, "But sometimes your belief doesn't hold up with the reality."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco stiffened as the sound of wood crashing reached his ears, sitting up he threw the blankets off himself and crossed to the door silently. Opening it a crack he peered out into the darkness, creeping out he kept close to the wall as he walked. Another loud crash from the library had him changing directions, his pulse speeding up as adrenaline rushed through him. This feeling was familiar, the blood rush right before a fight, it was almost euphoric. Grabbing a hammer from a nearby workbench he lightly pushed the cracked door to the library. The faint light from the moon was the only thing lighting the room, and the noise from the intruder was sufficient enough to tell him that this person was an amateur. Quietly he put the hammer back down on the ground, taking a deep breath he broke into a run.

Rushing the door open enough for it to crash against the wall and shake loose a piece of plaster he had been meaning to replace, Draco charged the intruder. A grunt of pain was issued from the body under him as his velocity brought them to the ground hard. Straddling and pinning the body, he quickly pulled the wand free from there hand and tossed it across the room. The person beneath him began to struggle in earnest, turning his body so that Draco's center of gravity was thrown off and he was falling to the side. Grunts of pain erupted as they began wrestling, punches and kicks landing without discrimination. Draco twisted as the intruder pushed him backwards, bringing his arm around at the same time he locked his arm in a chokehold around his opponents neck. The man's hands began grappling at his forearm as he gasped for air, Draco tightened his grip. This he was use to, the fight to the death. The balance between life and death, and so many times he had wanted death, so many times he had waited for someone just to end it all so that he didn't have to fight anymore.

Releasing the intruder, Draco stumbled backwards leaning against the wall for support. Banging his head against the wall he closed his eyes as memories came flooding back. The blood of his first battle, the first time he had looked death in the eye, how he had thrown up behind his mother's rosebushes afterwards. His mother's death and his disconnection with the lives he had taken. Mother's who he had cut down, people whose blood he had shed without blinking. The mercies of quick deaths he had granted, never really thinking through but just believing that they had wanted it to end as much as he had.

The man lay gasping; Draco watched him his arms resting on his bent knees. Not waiting for him to catch his breath Draco's foot shot out and kicked him in the ribs, "What are you doing here?"

The man gasped in pain, curling in towards his injured side. Breath coming out in hard pain ridden gasps, "I was going to kill you."

Foot lashing out again, Draco caught him in the stomach with his new position, "You? Better men have tried and now they are the ones in the grave."

"You don't deserve to live," the man spat on the ground as he pulled himself out of reach of Draco's legs and leaned against the cold fireplace for support.

"No I don't," Draco climbed to his feet, turning he walked to the door, "Next time come prepared and don't make as much noise."

"What?!"

Draco turned at the shout, hands falling uselessly to his sides as he stared at the shadowed lump that was the man, "The next time you come to kill me don't make as much noise and be better prepared."

"You're telling me how to kill you? Did you go crazy in Azkaban?" Draco rolled his eyes, watching as the man lumbered to his feet. Frowning at his lack of grace, and the way that he held himself, Draco shook his head at his lack of training.

"Maybe or perhaps I was insane long before my time in Azkaban," walking forward Draco bent and picked the man's wand up, "I'll be keeping this though."

"Malfoy," the man called out as Draco walked from the room, his steps loud and unsure in the dark room, "Come back here and fight me you bloody bastard."

Draco passed by Kreacher, "See our guest off the premises and to his home. Watch him though; he doesn't seem to be in the mood to listen."

"Kreacher will do as Master wants," shuffling forward to do as Draco ordered. Hand grabbing the man just as he cleared the doors and the two disappeared with a loud crack.

Draco shook his head as stretched his back, wincing at the bruises he knew would be quite noticeable by sun up. Falling onto his rather lumpy cot Draco was asleep almost as soon as his head touched the pillow. A slight smile on his lips, it had felt good to pound on something.

--------------------------------------------------------

A.N.: So here it is, and if I wasn't so tired I would name everyone specifically. So please forgive me, this chapter is for the ones that reviewed the first chapter. Reviews make me happy, and a happy writer is a proficient writer. Okay I have a Spanish exam tomorrow so it is off to bed I go. Night to all and to all a good night.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry turned to look at Ron, not rising from his crouched position amongst the rubble that had at one time been a modest but pretty little house set in the outskirts of Hogsmeade. He watched as Ron dismissed the junior Auror who was trying to fill him in. Harry winced as Ron shoved the man away and stalked towards Harry, his face set in determined lines.

"Any signs," Ron demanded. Harry turned back to the ash and various pieces of rubble he was picking through instead of answering. Ron clenched his fists, taking in slow deep breaths; he asked again, "Any signs?"

"None so far, which means they burned with the house or they were taken," Harry's voice was monotone; he knew that right now Ron didn't need a friend he need his partner. Standing up Harry pointed to the place that would have been the nursery, "Looks like the fire started in here."

"Harry," Ron and Harry both turned to see Hermione standing on the other side of the barricade blocking the gawking populace from the Auroro's. Harry sent Ron an apologetic look as he hurried over to the brunette, ignoring the fury burning in Ron's blue eyes.

Harry waved the Auror away posted at the barricade and motioned Hermione just inside of the lawn. Bending his head he whispered, "What are you doing here Hermione?"

"I heard about Padma and Percy," Hermione choked out, her eyes locked on the man standing yards away instead of on Harry, "No one knew if they were alive or not. I had to come to see-."

She broke off as Ron pushed in between them, backing up a space her lip trembled as she tilted her head back to keep eye contact.

Ron sneered down at her, "Do you care?"

"Ron, don't," Harry started to move, but Ron shoved him back. Throwing up his hands, he backed off.

"Well do you," Ron asked Hermione, his face hard and unforgiving as she cried, "Did you care while you were fucking my brother? I never asked but how was it, did you take notes and compare the two of us like some damn research project. Which one of us shags better Hermione? Me or Fred?"

"Ron please," Hermione choked, her hands wiping the tears away uselessly, "I'm sorry, it was a mistake. A stupid mistake-."

"A mistake that you repeated for three months. Three months while his wife was being held prisoner and he was vulnerable after George's death," grabbing her by the arm he hauled her to the barrier, "Get out of here. If you had cared so much for my family you wouldn't have put us through that pain. If you had cared for me- Just go."

"Harry," Hermione cried beseeching her friend as Ron shoved her to the other side, "Please just tell me, are they alive?"

Harry looked at Ron, whose eyes were as cold as when they were at the height of the war. Looking back to Hermione he shook his head sadly, "I'm sorry we are not releasing any details as of yet to the public, only family is privileged as of now."

Hermione nodded; wrapping her arms around herself she blended back into the crowd and out of his sight. Turning back to Ron he glared at him before walking back to the remains of the house. Calling over his shoulder, "Funny how it's not the many good memories that people remember but the one bad that is the most prominent."

Ron glared, but his eyes turned towards the brunette that was walking stiffly up the road. Her shoulders bent against the stares and the pain that was so recently inflicted. Stilling himself against the onslaught of feelings he turned back to pick through what had been at one time his brother and sister-in-law's home.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Darcy," Ginny called out as she pushed the door open, it had taken her half an hour to remember where the house was, and countless pointing spells that had been modified so that the wand pointed in the direction the caster wanted. Tired and frustrated she had been elated when she had felt the wand vibrate telling her that she had reached her destination. Standing in the rather large foyer, from what she could tell from the slight echo that her steps had created, Ginny paused a moment before letting out a shriek.

Banging and running pounded down on her, turning towards the sound Ginny smiled as the footsteps came to a stop a few feet away from her, "Good morning, I was wondering if I could be of a bother today."

The curse made her blush; ducking her head she could practically feel the frustration rolling off of him. Walking forward she easily sidestepped a stack of wood and came to rest a few feet from him, "I think I succeeded."

His fingers were gripping her arm suddenly, shaking her as he yelled, "Do you realize how dangerous it was for you to walk over here? You could have fallen or gotten lost? What were you thinking?"

Ginny lost her smile, "I am not an incompetent. I can take care of myself."

"Really," snatching her cane from her he spun her around and shoved her enough so that she fell to her knees. Walking to a position on the opposite side of the room, "Walk over to me."

Ginny's head dropped as she climbed to her feet, hands falling to her sides she took a tentative step forward. When she didn't encounter anything she took another step, this time with more confidence. Her smile was more of a smirk as she lifted her head in his direction. It wasn't until the fifth step that she had problems, Draco watched unfazed as she stumbled forward. Hands outstretched to catch herself as she ran into a saw horse, her small cry of surprise echoed across the room.

"You're not here yet," Draco remarked, "Get up."

Ginny's face set in determination she felt her way around the saw horse, once on the other side she began walking towards him. Her hands outstretched to feel for obstacles, encountering the stack of tiles before she ran into the wall. Frowning Ginny turned, her hand still on the wall.

"You missed," Draco whispered in her ear, having moved towards her when it was apparent that she had lost his position in the room.

Ginny stiffened, her head turning to him, "This doesn't mean I am helpless."

"No, but I am also not a babysitter," Draco shoved her cane into her hands. Snapping his fingers he summoned Kreacher, "From now on when Miss Weasley wishes to visit you are to apparate her here and back home at the end of the day. She will send an owl to inform you, understood."

Kreacher bowed, though his face showed his displeasure, "I understands Master."

Dismissing the elf Draco turned to Ginny, "You will send an owl, or by Merlin I will-."

"I thought you weren't a knight," Ginny asked her head tilted to the side her brow raised in inquiry, blank eyes hidden by sunglasses.

Ginny shook her head as she listened to him stalk off, her cane now residing once again in her hand. Pushing off from the wall she made her way towards his retreating light steps. The rustle of cloth made her pause, they were still on the first floor, and judging from the size of the house Ginny knew that there was at least another floor if not more. Walking into the room, Ginny heard the squeak of a bed making her cheeks heat.

"I didn't interrupt something did I," Ginny whispered, hoping that there wasn't a third party in the room.

Draco snorted, "No, I am making my bed. Believe me if you had interrupted something I would have thrown you on your blind arse before you could say quidditch."

Ginny laughed, hand outstretched she was surprised and pleased when Darcy grasped it and drew her alongside the bed. Fingers running over the coarse fabric covering the surprisingly small and rather lumpy cot; Ginny was not surprised to find the bed made with military precision. Sitting down, she heard the small grunt of frustration from Darcy as he walked about the room. Fiddling with the hem of her shirt, "My brother Percy was attacked last night. He and his wife, Padma, they were at their home outside of Hogsmeade. I thought that all the pain was finished after the war."

Draco frowned; he remembered a Padma Patil from school but hadn't known she had married Ginny's pompous brother. Pulling his shirt off he thought it was better to ignore her worries than to say anything, because sometimes people needed to talk.

Ginny stopped on a half sob, shaking her head she forced a smile, her ears perking when she heard the unmistakable sound of clothing being removed. Alarmed Ginny turned her head away automatically, "What are you doing?"

"Changing my clothes," Draco was amused by the color rising in her cheeks; it wasn't like before where her cheeks had barely reddened. No, this time the color started at her neck and spread quickly upwards until even the tips of her ears were red. Pulling his pajama bottoms off, he threw them on the bed next to her just to see her reaction, "Calm down, it's not as if you can impose on my honor anyways. And you barged in here, so you should be prepared for the consequences."

Ginny jumped as the fabric brushed her arm, "It still isn't proper…Are you naked?"

Her voice broke on the question, and if a thing was possible she turned even redder. Pulling his pants on but leaving his shirt off Draco couldn't help but smile as he walked over to her, "Some what. Why are you scared?"

Ginny jumped, as his breath stirred the flyaway curls framing her face. Gulping she tried to give him a brave look, "No, I-um. I should wait for you in the kitchen."

Her hands came up to push him away, her mouth forming an O when she encountered warm hard flesh. Fingers relaxing, she lightly trailed her fingers along his exposed chest. Digits smoothing across flat nipples, her tongue coming out to wet her suddenly dry lips as her fingers drifted lower, tracing a rigid scar running from the area just over his heart to below his navel disappearing in the waist band of his pants. She smiled as Darcy sucked in his breath when her nails softly grazed his skin as she ran her fingers down. Suddenly she was lying on her back, Darcy pinning her beneath him as he trapped her hands above her head.

His breathing harsh as if he had just run a race, Ginny knew her own was just as ragged. Sunglasses lost in the tumble, Ginny closed her eyes as his face hovered just above hers. Feeling as his breath hot and harsh brushed her cheeks, his nose lightly touching her skin as his lips came closer. The lightest touch had her blood pounding as she angled her head to force him to deepen the contact. Anticipation spread through her, causing her ache as their bodies touched and she unconsciously arched against him.

"Darcy," Ginny breathed, and just as quickly as she was pounced upon she was left alone. The slamming of the door had her sitting up, groaning she rolled over. Enveloped by the scent of leather and soap, Ginny let out a frustrated, "Damn it."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Arthur smiled tiredly as his eldest walked in to his office, "Bill, I wasn't expecting you today. But then today isn't a normal day is it?"

Bill nodded; his hair no longer the rebel length that his mother had hated, but the fang earring still dangled jauntily. Falling down into the chair across from his father he stretched his legs out, "We got the owl this morning, I took Fleur and the boys to her mother's in Marseille."

"Good, they shouldn't be around if this turns out to be another Death Eater revolt," Arthur shuffled the papers around on his desk, eyes averting from his son's. "I want to get Ginny out too."

"She won't leave Dad; she won't be shuttled around," shaking his head at his father's obliviousness when it came to Ginny. Leaning forward he stopped his father's nervous riffling, "We have already lost Mum and George, don't make her go away when it seems like we have lost Percy too."

"Did I ever tell you about the day when Percy told me he was marrying Padma," Arthur leaned back his eyes focused on the most recent family picture. Fred was standing with his arm around an only slightly pregnant Luna, Georgie balanced on his shoulders. Next to them was Bill with his twin sons Eramus and Louis, Fleur was securing the jacket on her small sons. Ginny was standing with Ron and Charlie, both brothers had their arms slung around her shoulders. Her sunglasses were on, but her smile was bright as she laughed at something Charlie whispered in her ear. Harry was standing with Arthur going over what looked to be a muggle phone, so deep in conversation that they didn't realize that the picture was even being taken. Percy had his arms around Padma, she was leaning against her husband a content smile on her face as he kissed her cheek. Studying the picture, "He walked into Grimmuald Place with Tonks one night. I don't know who looked more apologetic, Tonks or everyone else in the room. Poor Mundungnus ran as soon as he saw him, I would have laughed if I wasn't so upset. She was the reason that he came back to us, she refused to marry him without our consent. Ravenclaws were always the smartest of the lot, guess this just proves it."

"Dad," his voice low and a note of hope in it, "We are going to find them. We aren't losing another one."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Padma groaned, a cool cloth was being pressed gently to her head. Slowly she opened her eyes grimacing when the light hit her. Hand reaching up she held the cloth in place as she tried to sit up, but firm hands held her in place.

"You had a rather nasty spill, don't over tax yourself," a voice told her as she tried to sit again. Alarm rising in her eyes, "Don't worry, your baby is fine."

"Who are you," Padma whispered, the sound of her own voice making her wince. Pulling back as far as the confines of the small bed she was laying on would allow she starred at the hooded figure above her. When he didn't immediately answer she pushed on, "Where is my husband?"

A deep chuckle rolled out from the hood's darkness, getting up from the bed the man walked over to a small table. Scooping out the contents into a vial, he walked back to her swishing the bottle contents rhythmically. Sitting down next to her a scarred hand came to take the cloth from her forehead, "Percy is resting comfortably. Much more than he deserves, but I am not as heartless as he is."

"Who are you," Padma persisted, her brown eyes flashing with annoyance as she laid weakly on the bed.

"I told you, I was a friend of your husbands," his tone was admonishing as if he was ashamed of her lack of memory. Bringing the vial up to her lips, "Here this is a simple restorative and sleeping draught."

Padma closed her mouth firmly, turning aside when he persisted. The slap was sudden and vicious, and in her already weakened state Padma's head lolled to the side as she gave up resisting. The bitter potion passed her lips smoothly, grimacing she watched him as he smoothed her hair down. Swiftly before the potion began to take full effect she reached up and snatched the hood off. Her eyes rolling back in her head as she passed out, barely registering the face that had been revealed to her.

The slight clucking noise from the man fell on unhearing ears, getting up he pulled the blanket up over her protruding stomach. A simple wave of his wand checked the progress of the babe, he wasn't a monster even if he looked like one now and the health of an innocent child was important to him. Satisfied he walked from the sunny room and downstairs, humming under his breath as he pushed the doors open to the cellar. Pulling the hood up before he began the descent down the stairs.

"Where's Padma? If you have done anything with her I will kill you," Percy screamed as he arched against the shackles holding him in place. Blood trickled down from the various cuts marring his pale torso, his left eye was swollen shut and his left ear bloody, but his demeanor was that of an unbroken man.

"Resting, and if you are a good boy perhaps I will let you see her before you die," Percy lunged at him as he neared. The man laughed turning he walked over to table setting against the wall, fingers flickering over the various metal instruments littering the surface. His hand came up to push the hood of his cloak back, "She is a feisty one, I had almost forgotten how feisty she could be. We were in the D.A. together, she never really noticed me though. We went to school together for seven years, and I don't think in all that time I ever registered on anyone's radar. I was always the one everyone really forgot about unless they needed something. I guess that is why you chose me."

Picking up a thin knife he tested it against the skin of his thumb, hissing when a thin line of red appeared. Turning around he watched satisfied as Percy's eyes widened in horror, "Don't worry, I am not going to kill you. No, I am going have a little fun first."

"I didn't mean to leave you," Percy sobbed as the knife drew closer to him. Chains clanking as he tried to get away, breath stopping as he waited for the first bite of the blade. Whisper, "Please don't do this."

His plea was met with a cool smile, "I begged too. You know what they did to me when I begged? They sliced the bottoms of my feet and broke my toes, they told me it wasn't Gryffindor like to beg. Would you like me to show you the scars?"

"No," Percy shook his head, tears falling, "Please don't-."

"That isn't very Gryffindor like," the knife flashed swift and light, just enough to pierce the skin and cause a burning where the cut was, "You are a Weasley, the elite of Gryffindors. Elite do not beg."

Percy clamped his mouth closed as the knife cut again, blade running along his collarbone. Blinking away his need to cry out at the burning pain of the cut, he watched as the once friendly eyes watched the blood trickle with fascination. A small voice in the back of his head told him that he deserved this, he had caused this. Gritting his teeth he began to withdraw as the knife began cutting at him without a pattern in mind, just the need to desecrate being fulfilled.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Blaise looked around the once grand house, disgust curling his lip he pushed the door open and let himself in. Tossing his cloak on a haphazard nail sticking out in a crack in the plaster; Blaise pushed his black curls out of his eyes as watched the dust collecting in the corners. Footsteps loud and obtrusive he made his way to the back of the house, peaking in rooms as he passed. Brows quirking as he looked at finished repairs that were overpowered by the overall unfinished quality of the room, Blaise let out a whistle as he looked at the disrepair that had fallen to the ballroom. A sudden loud crash had him spinning with his wand drawn and at the ready. Hearing muffled cursing Blaise followed the sound towards the library.

Peering inside the room, Blaise was surprised to see a red head bent down trying to straighten up a pile of cans and buckets. Her mumbled curse words were punctuated by banging of cans. Blaise watched as she straightened the cans and buckets, sitting back on her heels she pushed her sunglasses up and pursed her lips.

"Damn it, I hope they weren't color coordinated," Ginny whispered as she examined the top of one of the cans for any sign of telling the color. "Stupid Darcy, of course he would stack these in the middle of the room."

"Might I be of assistance," Blaise called out as he strode into the room, coming to a stop a few feet away from her. His eyes widening as he recognized the wide blank hazel eyes set in the expressive face, "_Weasley_ what the fuck are you doing here?"

Startled Ginny jumped backwards, "Who are you? What do you want?"

Blaise watched as she rose to her feet reaching for her wand and pointing it blindly at him, her eyes widening as if she could see him. But Blaise knew she couldn't, you would have to have been dead not to have heard about the only daughter of the Weasley clan blindness. His hand itching to have his own wand in his hand, he crowded forward changing positions so that she was aiming at empty air.

"I asked you first Weasley," Blaise sneered, "What are you doing in this house?"

Confused Ginny whirled; arm still raised with wand pointed with dangerous accuracy at his chest, "Unlike some people I was invited."

"Really by whom? Because I know for a fact that the owner of this abode isn't very fond of Weasels," Blaise bit out, his hand now on the pocket in his coat where his wand was hidden.

"The owner invited me," Ginny's arm wavered, "Now tell me who you are before I hex you."

"What don't recognize my voice, after you so carelessly insulted me and my mother all those years ago in Slughorn's compartment," Blaise moved quickly, snatching her wand from her hand and pinning her arms to her side, "Come on Weasel focus, surely you didn't lose brain function along with eyesight."

Hissing between her teeth, "Zabini."

"I see your brain wasn't as affected as I thought," Blaise crowded her back, pining her to the bookshelf, "Now tell me Weaselette, what are you doing at the Manor?"

"Il Blaise, ha lasciato va adesso," a dark voice called out from the doorway. Blaise turned to look at Draco stalking towards him, his face dark with anger, "Adesso mio fratello prima che io il hex lei."

"Darcy," Ginny called out, struggling against Blaise, "What the hell is going on? And why is Blaise Zabini in your house?"

"Darcy? Il fratello me informa per favore quanto a perché la Donnola la chiama qui Darcy? E poiché quando lei ha consentito il varmin lei la sua casa?" Blaise kept his grip on Ginny, looking at Draco for answers. When the blonde gave him a nod he released his hold on the now scratching spitfire, "La cura di spiegare?"

Once released Ginny kicked him hard in the leg, "Bloody slytherin arse. The next time you touch me you will be missing certain parts of your anatomy."

"You little-," Blaise reached for her as she slipped by him, gritting his teeth against the pain in his leg. He was shocked when she ran hands out to catch herself straight to Draco who caught her against him lest she fall. Rubbing his bruised appendage, "Would someone care to explain to me what the hell is going on?"

Draco smoothed his hands down Ginny's back, sending his friend a guarded look, "Ginny, I think it is time that you went home."

"But Darcy-," Ginny shrieked, her voice grating on Blaise's ears. Wanting nothing in the world than to wrap his hands around her neck and silence her so that he could get his answers. But the gods weren't looking favorably on him and she continued in a rather loud whisper, "He's a Death Eater, I can't leave-."

Draco snapped his fingers, a small rather disgusting elf appearing at his side, "Take Miss Weasley home."

"Yes Master," Kreacher reached out a reluctant hand to touch Ginny's skirt, the crack of his apparition drowning out her protest.

Turning to Blaise, "I guess you want to know why the Weaselette was here."

"Firewhiskey?" Blaise asked, leading the way out of the house. Draco following behind him wordlessly.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ginny fell to the ground, her stomach sucking sensation from the apparition. Sitting up she felt the tiny hands of the house elf helping her, hands that were hesitant as if afraid of her. Once she was on her feet she grabbed the elf's hand, "Please tell me where I am?"

Kreacher wrenched his hand away from her, feeling the burning of her skin's contact with his. He had helped her to stand, and now the insolent brat was demanding more. The curses he had heard since infancy was on his tongue, but what spilled from his mouth was something else, "You are in a rather untidy living room. There seems to be no dust, but a large assortment of knitted monstrosities."

"My mother, she liked to knit. She always made the ugliest sweaters for each of us for Christmas, but we all wore them because we loved her," Ginny forced the reluctant elf to lead her to the kitchen.

"Miss is happy in this home," Kreacher asked puzzled by the lack of organization and pomp that his old Mistress had required around her home, and the coldness that was emanating from his new Master.

"Yes I am very happy, what kind of home would this be if there wasn't love," settling herself at the kitchen table, "Would you mind terribly to get me my spare cane from my room upstairs?"

"Then I's can go," Kreacher asked hopefully, wanting nothing more than to be away from the unfamiliarity of the blood traitors home. His bones creaking he began to climb the rickety stairs, muttering all the way about the uselessness of blood traitors and their offspring. Riffling through the pretty though damaged dresser Kreacher smiled as his hand enclosed over the cane. Returning to Ginny he felt his spine curl at seeing her not alone, the bane of his existence was sitting despondently across from the red head.

"Harry, I can't tell you what to do," Ginny said as she reached across the table for his hand.

Kreacher began to silently descend, hoping to avoid the green eyed stare of the man he loathed. His foot hit the third from the bottom stair and the wood sent up a creaking sound in protest, drawing the attention of the two at the table. Kreacher watched with horror as recognition dawned on the young man's face, his rising to his feet had the elf inching back into the shadows.

"Ahh Elf, I had wondered where you had gotten too," Ginny called out, smiling warmly at the elf, "Harry I would introduce you to the fellow, but alas I don't know it. He belongs to my friend Darcy who lives on the other side of the old rabbit path. Do you have my cane?"

Kreacher stepped forward, his eyes glaring at the dark haired wizard daring him to reveal his Master's true identity. Handing the object over to the witch, he quickly apparated away mindful to stay out of Harry's reach.

"Ginny, I need to get back to work. Give my best to your father when he gets home, and tell Ron that I will see him at work," Harry brushed his lips across her cheek, before leaving quickly.

Ginny was left gaping, her frustration coming out in a long breath, "Second time today someone has left me gaping like a fish. Bloody wankers."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So you aren't telling the littlest Weasley who you are because," Blaise snatched the bottle of firewhiskey from Draco's hand.

"At first I never thought I would see her again then it was easier than explaining myself," his speech only slightly slurred thanks to the half bottle he had ingested.

"You want the chit don't you," laughing the dark haired man leaned back in the kitchen chair he was occupying, "I can understand, she is a fine piece of work. She also has a certain innocent quality to her that I think has been lacking in your other conquests."

"I don't want her, for Salazar's sake she is still a Weasley," Draco reached for the bottle, only to have it snatched out of his reach. Glaring at Blaise he got up and walked over to a blank section of wall, hitting his fist against the stone he stepped back as the wall sprang open to reveal a well stocked pantry. Retrieving another bottle of the potent liquor he returned to the table, "No one has ever trusted me before."

"I trust you," Blaise pointed out, taking a swig from his bottle, "And if not mistaken I know you better than most, yet I still trust you."

"It's not the same," his voice harsh and dark with meaning, "When we were children I doubt we were never as innocent as she still is to this day. In school she looked at me with such loathing and hatred…I had a chance to be looked at as something more than a monster and I took it."

"You are ten times a fool then, because when she realizes what and who you are then she will look at you with a hundred fold the hatred as before," Blaise set the bottle down with a click, "But I do envy you."

"MALFOY!"

"Bloody hell," Draco moaned, taking another swig from the bottle, "Seems like today is a day for visits."

Harry Potter threw the doors to the kitchen open his green eyes flashing with anger, "You fucking bastard."

"Come in Potter have a seat," Blaise called out cheerfully motioning the Auror forward with a wave of his hand.

"Zabini, I should have known Death Eater scum would stick together-."

"Now don't be like that," Blaise grinned, though the friendly gesture was lost on Harry's stern demeanor, "After all I was acquitted of all charges."

"What is this about Potter, I seem to remember you already doing your once over this week," Draco asked his voice cold with politeness.

"You fucking bastard," Harry grabbed Draco by the front of his robes hauling him to his feet.

Draco simply stared down at him, "Is this anyway for an Auror to behave, hauling up his charges in their own home without cause."

Shaking him Harry was startled when his grip was challenged. Draco's hands seized his wrists twisting them until Harry was forced to release or else risk breaking. Separated by a few feet the two faced off with anger that ran deep.

Blaise stepped forward, "Gentlemen, perhaps the root of the problem should be sorted out before the fighting begins."

"If it wasn't bad enough that you killed her brother, but now you are leading her astray a blind girl at that," Harry yelled his face mottled with rage.

"So this is about _her_," Draco sneered, "I should have known that you would be fighting for a Weasley."

"One that you are deceiving for Merlin knows what kind of ends," Harry spat at Draco's feet, "Once a Death Eater always a Death Eater."

Blaise held Draco back with his hand, though his slighter strength was no match for the other man, "Potter you know for a fact that he is no more a Death Eater than you yourself are. He put an end to the war as much as you did."

"What kind of sick satisfaction are you getting out of this Malfoy? Did prison warp you so much that you have fun at the expense of a blind girl?"

Draco lunged for Harry, bypassing Blaise with little difficulty. Being half drunk gave Harry the upper hand if they were battling with wands, but Draco had long since forgotten that and was just out for blood. Harry drew his wand, preparing to hex the blond as he jumped out of the way but Draco kicked the slim piece of wood from his hand. Shock only had a moment to steal his sense from him before Draco had Harry on his back. Straddling his chest, Draco's hands tight around his throat Harry was gasping for air before he could put up a sign of resistance.

"Now Potter," Draco choked out his face anything but the cool demeanor that it had been only a few moments ago. "I will say this only once, I mean no harm to the girl Weasel. And if you tell her anything about me I will finish what we started all those years ago on the Express. Do you understand?"

A strangled yes came from Harry's blue tinged lips, and with out further need on his part he was released from Draco's steely grip. Gasping for air, Harry rolled over to his side as the blonde man fell into his seat pulling the bottle of firewhiskey to him.

"Well I must say never a dull moment with you two," Blaise pointed out from his position across the room, "But I have this little nagging feeling at the back of my head. How did you know that Draco was deceiving your dear Ginevra."

"She's not his dear anything," Draco shouted at the same time that Harry began his explanation.

Breaking off mid-sentence Harry turned to Draco, "Are you jealous that I will win again Malfoy? Sad that the only way that you can even be near a person like Ginny is by deceit."

"Sod off you bloody pillock," Draco growled his lips wrapping around the neck of the bottle to silence the slight nagging feeling at the back of his mind.

"You do realize that once she discovers who you are that you won't ever see her again," Harry all but shouted, the patience he had been in great abundance of having fled at the very sight of Draco Malfoy.

Draco's response was to take another drink, where Blaise laughed at him earning a glare from the blonde. Harry threw his hands up, walking over to the still open pantry he grabbed a bottle of alcohol and sat down.

"I didn't invite you to drink Potter," Draco growled, his lips now tingling numb from the burn of the drink.

"I can always throw you in jail for assaulting an officer of the law," Harry pointed out as he opened the dusty bottle. Raising it to his lips he stared at Draco over the wide expanse of table separating them, daring him to say or do something.

"Well in that case, I propose a toast," Blaise walked over to the table, plopping down he raised his own bottle, "To girls like your two's Ginny, may those angels learn to live with swine like the two of you."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fred didn't look up from his account book as the bell above the shop door jingled, "We are closed. Come back later."

"Fred," Fred's head snapped up, dropping his quill to the counter top as he stood up.

"You shouldn't have come here," Fred whispered as he walked around to the distraught intruder. When she fell into his arms he didn't protest, instead he held her running a hand soothingly along her back, "Hermione don't cry, please don't cry."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know where else to go," Hermione whispered into his chest, closing her eyes tightly against the tears and inhaling deeply of the familiar scent that was Fred alone. When they had first started their affair Hermione had only wanted an escape from the pain that was overwhelming her. Fred had also needed an outlet, though she knew that in his weakened state he had submitted whereas before he would have resisted. Dependency had grown from the torrid mess that was their secret, they had learned to rely on one another when all else seemed to be beyond their reach. Luna had come back to Fred though, and they had stopped for fear of revealing themselves to the people they loved. But the secret was to great, and as Luna confessed the horrors of what she had endured so did Fred confess the betrayal he had committed. Luna's anger was quiet, she had forgiven her husband but Hermione she could not forgive. And when the brunette had shown herself at her sick bed the Ravenclaw had bitterly revealed her to her that she knew forcing her to confess to Ron or else she would confess for her.

"If Luna were to find out that you had come here," Fred began only to be cut off by Hermione's lips on his. Fred remembered when he and George had encountered a drunk in the village, they had only been seven but curiosity had made them ask the drunk why he begged so for coins. His reply had been given with a harsh laugh saying that in life there were things that could grab hold of you and you were forced by what ever means to obtain it because it was like lifeblood to you. Hermione was like that bottle of drink had been to the old drunk, addicting and even parted for so long from the taste and the feeling it was still as potent as when first breaching of the lips. His hands tightened on her back and head, drawing her closer to him so that her body was pressed against him. Her small hands were clinging to him as her lips parted to allow his seeking tongue entry. As feral passion overtook them Fred began pushing her towards the shelves containing the many products he and his brother had invented. The sweet taste she offered brought up the bitter memories of his fallen twin, but they were memories that he cherished more than any other.

Fred pulled back his hands framing her face as she looked up at him with tear filled eyes. He knew not how many times she had looked up at him thus, he had lost count so long ago. Watching her he reached down to lift her skirt around her hips, fingers ghosting over panty-less thighs. Her own hands snaked down to release him from his pants, wrapping around him as he lifted her up at the same time. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he entered her, her eyes locked on his as a tear rolled down her cheek. Fred began a pace that had small mewling moans coming from her throat, his hand coming between their bodies to play with her center. His face burying in her neck as she came, his movements not ceasing until he had emptied himself in her.

It was several minutes before he regained control of himself and could pull away. Turning away he straightened his clothing, the rustling of fabric behind him told him that Hermione was doing the same. When he faced her again, she was as proper as when she had walked in though the flush in her cheeks was deceptively innocent.

"I love you," Hermione whispered to her feet, "I don't know when or how but I fell in love with you."

Fred stood still for a moment; running a hand through his hair he caught the faint whiff of her sex on his fingers making him flinch. Turning away from her he walked to the counter his attention once more on his books. Quill once more in hand he began making notations in the columns, checking figures and conducting business as usual.

"Aren't you going to say something," Hermione whispered, aghast that she should be ignored. Walking forward she grabbed the accounts book from the counter and threw it to the floor.

Fred looked at her his eyes dead of emotion, "What do you want me to say? Thank-you or perhaps even declare my love also."

"I want something you cold hearted bastard," Hermione screamed her face a mask of anger and tears.

Fred was around the counter in a moment, pulling her to him and crushing her mouth to his. Releasing her he brushed the strands of her hair out of her face, "I love you, but I have a duty to my wife."

Hermione nodded, clinging to him for a moment before disappearing out of the shop. The only sign of her being there was slightly disheveled shelves and the faint musk of sex lingering in the air. Picking up his ledger he sat down with a sigh of regret, dipping his quill in the ink pot he began to work.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Translations:

Draco- Blaise let her go.

Draco- Let her go my brother before I hex you.

Blaise- Darcy? Brother please inform me as to why the Weasel here is calling you Darcy? And since when did you allow varmin you your house?

Blaise- Care to explain?

-------------------------------------------------------

-------------------------------------------------------------------

A.N. So I couldn't get this chapter out of my head till I finished writing. I hope that you all enjoy and thanks to those of you who wished me luck on my spanish test. The professor is awesome and is giving us a major curve (about half of us made D's which will now be B's). Well the next chapter will have to wait till after I have finished my new update for Hero, which I haven't forgotten just that this one came out quicker. If anyone thought this one was complicated then you should give a look at that, I have to reread it just to post so that I don't forget anything. My love to all and to all a good day!!


	4. Chapter 4

Millicent Bullstrode looked up from her position on the floor of her cell, her dark violet eyes flashing as she watched the Auror pulling up the chair to sit just on the other side of the magical barrier. Rolling her eyes Millicent leaned back against the wall, her hand playing with the hem of her dirty smock as she hummed a Christmas carol under her breath.

"M. Bullstrode, a convicted Death Eater and practitioner of the Dark Arts," Millicent snorted, but the Auror continued, "The Wizardgamout has been asked to review your file by your legal advisor, and has found that though a Death Eater you were not active. And the extent of your Dark Arts activity was to the lesser degree of unapproved Healing."

"Weasley, why the hell are you telling me this," Millicent asked her eyes cracking open to look at the red-haired man who she had taken great pleasure in tormenting for the better part of six years. "I mean you were the one to arrest me; you should bloody well know what I was convicted for."

Ron closed the file with a sigh, "I know, and that was why I convinced your council to re-open your case. You weren't involved in the war-."

Millicent laughed, getting to her knees she crawled forward so that she was just in front of him the barrier separating them shimmering as she approached. Kneeling in a position that if the thin magic wasn't there would have been decidedly inappropriate, Millicent cocked her head to the side and looked up at him through dirty lengths of hair, "I was very much involved in the war Weasley."

"That isn't what I found-," Ron bit out but Millicent's smile made him cut himself off, "What the hell are you smiling about?"

"You," sitting back she basked in his ire, "Pleading for my life, quite a change from when you threw me in here."

Ron leaned forward so that the barrier was only a hairs breath away from him, "I thought it strange that the heir to the Bullstrode family fortune should sit in prison while rats like Nott and Flint were getting out. So I looked into it, do you know what I found?"

Millicent pointedly turned away from him, Ron breath made the barrier shimmer, "You had wanted to be a Healer, probably would have been if the war hadn't broken out."

Millicent glared at him, "I am a Healer."

Ron smirked, "Really? Looks like you are a prisoner."

"Fuck you Weasel," Millicent whispered turning her gaze away once more but making no move to scoot away from the barrier, and the first person she had been close to in Merlin knew how long.

"I guess your Death Eater friends didn't hold to you helping the enemy," Ron continued, his eyes watching her for the smallest hint at her feelings, he watched as her breath hitched for a moment before continuing as normal, "I remember."

Millicent stiffened, resolving herself she stood up as quickly as her unused muscles would allow. Ron followed her movements with his eyes, marveling at the changes that the years had done to her. Between the lack of rations and the physical labor demanded of her in the Death Eater ranks, and the almost lack of anything nutritional from the guards of the prison, Millicent had become a shell of her former self. Her brown hair was shorn short to help keep the bugs from infesting so easily, the wild lengths only reaching to her ears at their longest. Her violet eyes stood out from sunken cheek bones, dirt and sweat clung to her smock that hung off her small frame; looking at her Ron couldn't reconcile the small frail waif with the girl who had been compared to a female version of Gregory Goyle. Her nose turned slightly upwards in a haughty manner that seemed to place her beyond the stone walls that bound her.

"I was injured after a raid in the Highlands, I had chased a group of Death Eaters into the woods and fell down a ravine," Ron stood up walking so that he was facing her unless she turned to face the wall, "I hit my head in the fall, and had lost my wand. The Death Eaters must have stopped because I heard them arguing above me. I blacked out; I was so sure that I was a dead man. I could have been out for seconds, or hours but when I woke up I was on the forest floor and someone was healing me. They forced a potion down my throat, between that and the hit to my head I was slowly slipping into the darkness again."

"What do I care that someone healed you? Should I celebrate that some worthless traitor saved your life?" Millicent stepped forward her face pale and fire in her eyes, "Oh my joy is beyond words that you are alive and here now to allow me the pleasure of your freckled face."

Ron clenched his jaw in anger, his face flushing with anger, "I saw your eyes."

"You were suffering from a concussion, and probably given a sleeping draught," Millicent hissed, "You were delirious."

"I thought so at first, I mean who has purple eyes," Ron reached out a hand, his fingers brushing against the barrier waves of gold following the path of his fingers as they brushed the barrier that prevented his fingers from touching her cheek, "But then when I saw you among the prisoners at the surrender, I knew I hadn't imagined it."

Millicent made to move back but his voice bit out, stopping her from retreating, "It was you. You saved my life after that raid."

"You are a fool," her voice was low, leveling cool eyes on him, "Why could you not just leave it alone? I deserve to be in here Weasley, leave me be."

Ron sucked in his breath as if she had slapped him, "Do you want to die in here?"

Millicent walked over to the small cot shoved against the wall. Curling herself into the corner Millicent stared at the wall in obvious dismissal of the Auror.

Ron glared at her, his jaw ticking in frustration. His hand tingled from the small contact with the barrier, looking down at it he let it drop to his side. His spine stiffening he walked back to the chair he had previously occupied, picking up the file he let his eyes skim briefly on the small form huddled only a few feet from him. Those few feet felt as if it were a chasm miles wide, and no matter how much he stretched he knew that he would never be able to reach her.

"I owe you, my life," Ron whispered, "Consider this my payment."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fred groaned as his son let out a shriek of laughter, rolling over he buried his head under his wife's pillow, the sound muffling slightly under the soft weight. Another burst of laughter made his ears ring, with a curse Fred threw the pillow away and flipped onto his back. His tired eyes studied the cracked plaster ceiling of his bedroom, flinching when he heard Georgie excitedly ran from his bedroom to the bathroom followed by the sedate walk of his mother. The sound of running water and Luna's quiet melodic voice did nothing to soothe his rising temper, instead it just provoked it. Swinging his feet over the edge of the bed, Fred ran weary hand over his face.

"I'm sorry did we wake you?"

Fred looked up to see his wife leaning against the doorway; Georgie could be heard splashing in the bathroom. Getting to his feet Fred shook his head, "I needed to get up anyways."

"I was thinking that perhaps we could go on a picnic today," Luna ventured her eyes straying to the open bathroom door where she could see her son happily sinking his pirates ship, "My father offered to watch Georgie-."

"I have to do some work for the shop," Fred said cutting her off, stripping out of his pajama bottoms and t-shirt he pulled out fresh clothes from their closet, eyes flashing over the old Quidditch gear he had shoved at the back, "Maybe another day."

Luna nodded, turning to go back to Georgie who was drenching the bathroom. Fred breathed out a sigh of regret as he watched her stooped shoulders. Pulling on his sweater he yanked his pants on before rummaging through the bottom of the closet for his shoes. His head snapped forward as something soft and wet hit him in the back of the head, whirling around Fred stared incredulously at his wife, "What the hell was that for?"

Luna glared at him, "You don't think I know? How could I not, Merlin Fred, I am pregnant not stupid."

Fred's eyebrows rose as his face paled, his mind flashing to Hermione who though he hadn't seen in a week had been plaguing his thoughts almost the entire time. Stepping forward his hands outstretched in a gesture of peace he was stunned when she threw another bath toy at him, Fred easily dodged the stuffed gnome floatie.

Georgie laughed at his parents as he climbed out of the tub, grabbing his favorite towel from the floor he wrapped it around himself before running to his father, "Da!"

Fred kept his eyes on Luna who was looking at him as if he were a stranger, bending he picked up his son and set the wet boy on his hip. Fred knew that Luna wouldn't throw anything else at him with their son in his arms, "What did I do now?"

"Don't you act innocent with me-," Luna cut off as Fred stepped closer and cut her off with a hard kiss. Pushing back Luna looked up at him with watery blue eyes, "You went…and saw him."

Fred was stunned for a moment, Georgie chattering nonsensically in his ear and the sad tired look on his wife's face was making him remember what it had been like when she had come back from being captured. The pain he had been through during her disappearance was nothing compared to what he had felt when she had looked at him with those dead eyes. Sitting Georgie down on his feet Fred pulled Luna into his chest, "I had to go see him-."

"No, you didn't," Luna tilted her head back her hands grasping his shoulders as she held him, "Seeing him will not bring your brother back. George is dead, and torturing yourself with his killer isn't going to bring him back."

Fred felt the tears sting his eyes, pushing her head down so that it rested on his shoulder he simply held her as they silently drifted down his cheeks. Georgie whimpered beside them, but when his mother's hand came to caress his curls, quieting the little boy with her soothing touch as his Father cried into her shoulder.

"I love you," Fred murmured in her hair, his voice strangled and choked with regret that he knew she wouldn't recognize. Pulling back he cupped her face in his hands, "I love you, Luna Cecilia Lovegood Weasley."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Are you sure that you can carry all this?" Ginny stifled the frown and smiled at the well meaning sells clerk, whipping out her wand she shrank the packages down and placed them in the pocket of her coat.

"See you next week Mister Kelring," Ginny said good-naturedly as she exited the grocery. Her hair whipping in the wind, Ginny regretted her decision in not tying it back before she had left the Burrow that morning as the long curls whipped in the wind tangling behind her as she began walking, her cane skimming the ground as she walked down the almost deserted street.

Ginny smiled at people and waved to various wizards and witches that called out to her, she was about to bear off the main road to the street that led to her home when a familiar voice called out to her. Stiffening Ginny turned to face the winded brunette who stopped a few feet from her, Ginny fingers tightened around the cane, "Hermione."

"I was wondering if perhaps we could have lunch," Hermione scuffed her boot on the ground nervously, her hands stuffed in her pockets she looked up at the dark sunglasses that reflected her standing almost like a small child before the younger woman. Looking away Hermione brushed a stray hand away from her face, "I'm sorry I shouldn't have bothered you."

Hermione turned and began walking away, Ginny let out a sigh, "Hermione wait."

Hermione smiled sheepishly at her old friend as Ginny closed the difference between them, the red head blushed, "How about The Red Nickel?"

They walked in silence, neither wanting to break the comfort of saying nothing when there was so much to be said that was painfully lodged in the back of their throats.

Entering the small pub, Ginny smiled at the owner as he escorted her to a booth with a hand on her elbow, "Roger, could I have a butterbeer and some your shepherd's pie."

"Ofcourse Gin, and what can I get you Miss," Roger Chatworth turned to Hermione who was sliding into the seat across from Ginny.

The brunette sent him a sheepish smile, "The same, thanks."

Once Roger had delivered the butterbeers Ginny turned her attention from the cold dewy bottle to the woman whose somewhat ragged breathing was beginning to make her regret coming with her. Reaching up Ginny pushed her hair behind her ear, letting out a sigh as she did so, "Hermione?"

"I didn't mean to hurt you-any of you," Hermione whispered, this was the first time she had talked to Ginny in so long, and looking at the sweet faced girl infront of her Hermione realized how much heart ache she had caused to the family that had welcomed her with open arms.

Ginny nodded, a small smile curving her lips as she tilted her head to the side, the action making Hermione think for an instance that Ginny could actually see her. Shaking her head Hermione forged onwards, "I miss you Gin."

Ginny took a deep breath weighing her words carefully, "I miss you too, but-."

"Ginny, please don't say that you hate me," Hermione reached across the smooth table to grasp the pale freckled hand in her own, holding tight when the red head stiffened in surprise at the contact, "I can't go back and change things but-."

"Hermione you slept with my brother," Ginny laughed harshly, her face twisting with disbelief at the incredulity of the situation, "You were like a sister to me…I…"

"Ginny, please just give me a chance," Hermione's hand held hers in a tighter grip, leaning forward so that the table bit into her stomach painfully and causing the table to make a slight scraping noise on the floor as it pushed forward with the force of her movements.

Ginny pulled back sharply her nostrils flaring as she felt Hermione's movements, this perhaps the worst part of being blind the sudden invasion of privacy that you came on without anyway of preventing it. Rage at having been invaded made her pulse speed up and color rise to Ginny's cheeks, Merlin how she wished that she could look into Hermione's eyes and see for herself the honesty or deceit that lurked in the once open depths. Pulling her hand back Ginny let out a sigh of relief when Hermione relinquished her hold, getting to her feet she pulled her sweater on and snapped her cane out. Walking past Hermione she stopped at the other witch's shoulder, reaching out Ginny placed a hand on her once friend's shoulder, "Time Hermione, just give it time."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ginny laid back on the cool grass tickling her bare skin as she soaked up the sun beating down, it was for once a pleasant day. The sun was sharply hot, Ginny smiled to herself she had never considered how the sun really felt until she couldn't see it anymore. There were days when she felt as if it had all but disappeared, as if the blackness had swallowed it up and left the entire world in the same darkness she was in. Then there was the days that it bit down on her, offering her the pleasant warmth that was almost like her mother's arms rocking her like when she was a small child awake crying because of the nightmares induced by the storms. Now though it was pleasantly crisp, its warmth the same as that of a lovers caress. Ginny laughed at the thought, she had only had fumbling school boys never a lover, the closest she had had to a lover had been with Darcy. And that brief interlude didn't count for much in the long run of things Ginny thought, a frown marring her features briefly as she reflected on that afternoon.

"Do you make a habit of laying in other people's yards?"

"Do you make a habit of sneaking up on blind girls?" Ginny retorted, her tone a bit more forceful than she had meant it to be because he had actually surprised her for once. Not even the barest hint of a foot tread had alerted her to his presence nor a whisper in the wind of his scent. Ginny continued to recline, crossing her ankles as she felt the grass brush her side as he sat down next to her, his warmth reaching across the few inches separating them and warming her far more than the phantom caress of the sun.

"Why was Blaise Zabini in your house the other day?" Ginny blurted out in the silence, that followed his seating.

Draco looked down at her; one of his legs folded up so that he could prop his arm on it, the other braced on the ground beside her shoulder. Staring at his hand and her shoulder; separated by a few handfuls of wildflowers and some grass, but by so much more.

"Why do you care if he was in _my house_?" Draco asked, wanting nothing more than to end this farce right there before he fell more enraptured by her, "Tell me little girl, what does it matter?"

Ginny turned her head in his direction, her vacant eyes scrutinizing him, "Because…Well I don't know why. Do you know him?"

"He's my cousin," Draco supplied easily, which was the truth Blaise was his cousin, though distantly of course.

Ginny flinched at the news, though her smile was quickly back in place, "Well, one can't help who your family is. I mean look at mine, don't get me wrong I love my brothers…it's just that sometimes a girl could do with some company that doesn't leave the towels on the bathroom floor and scare away any boy that even breathes in my direction."

Draco frowned, "If they scare away that damn easily then you shouldn't be doing anything with them anyways."

Ginny sat up her hands reaching up to brush the leaves and grass out of her hair, "Don't be jealous, you are the only boy I am talking to now."

"First things first we are not involved, you are a pest that I can not seem to eradicate," Draco reached over his fingers trailing through the wild auburn curls to pull out a leaf, fingers tangling into the heavy mass so that he brushed against the skin of her neck. Draco smirked as she let out a sigh and tilted her head so that his caress continued down the column of her neck, pulling his hand back, "Second I am a man not a boy, though with the looks of the lot you hang out with I could see how you wouldn't know the difference."

Ginny bit her lip to stifle the groan at the loss of his gentle caressing fingers, "You are a tease is what you are. It's no wonder you are so tense all the time, you probably haven't had a good shag in Merlin knows how long."

Draco knew he was gaping like a fish but he couldn't help it, the girl had a mind dirtier than most teenage boys, "Do you ever think about anything besides sex?"

Ginny leaned back on her arms, grinning unrepentantly, "Not much."

Draco got to his feet, pulling her up by her arms. Muttering under his breath, "How did you ever pass the Medi-witch courses?"

"I slept with the examiner," Ginny deadpanned, her face serious as she felt his fingers tighten on her arms. Extracting herself carefully she gave him a sweet smile, "For an old man he didn't disappoint between the sheets."

Draco growled low in his throat before walking past her and into the Manor, letting the laughing girl trail behind him as he walked into the silent house. Picking up a sample of tile for the master bathroom he compared it to the paint he had already chosen, ignoring the laughter coming from the doorway.

"Darcy, I was joking," Ginny shook her head exasperatedly; "You have to be the most straight laced person I have ever met."

Draco snorted; knowing who she had been exposed to it was no wonder that she had the manners of a street urchin. Draco turned his attention back to the tiles, dismissing her from his mind like he would a fly.

Ginny frowned, leaning against the doorway she listened to him silently shift tiles around as he thought and compared. Sighing she walked over to him, her hand outstretched to know when she reached him. The soft cotton of his shirt stretched tight across his shoulders as he tensed at her touch, her fingers flattened against his shoulder as she walked around to stand next to him. Leaning her head on his shoulder her arm stretched so that she could hug him to her side, Ginny smiled at the tense feel of the hard muscles.

"What are you doing?" Draco asked his voice cold and harsher than had wanted.

"I wonder what your childhood was like," Ginny whispered her head nestling against his chest as he shifted on the stool he was sitting on.

"Why do you ask that?" Draco turned his head to look down at her, his breath making her hair dance.

"You're all stiff," Ginny supplied lightly, "I wonder what could make a person so stiff."

Draco let out a frustrated sigh, letting her hug him for a moment before shoving her off none too gently, "Well let a man work. Go make yourself useful or something."

Ginny laughed as she walked out of the room, "I think I'll go see what that elf has been up to."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Percy stifled a groan, coughing he rolled onto his side spitting blood onto the stone floor. His joints were on fire as he stretched out his legs from the cramped position that he had assumed after he had finally been allowed to fall to the floor in painful exhaustion. Opening his eyes he blinked wearily at the pale light drifting from the small window on the opposite side of the room, the sky looked blue. Strange Percy had never seen such a bluer sky in his life, bracing his hand on the cold floor he pushed himself up so that he could lean against the wall. Settled into his new position he held his ribs against the pain that had erupted from his movement. Looking down at his bare stomach Percy grimaced at the crudely stitched together pieces of flesh. Seventeen other identical cuts marked his body, he felt as if he was on fire the pain was so vivid. His hand came up to run along what had once been a smooth cheek.

"I see you finally woke up," Percy glanced up at the man who was sitting on the steps to the basement, his scarred face even harsher in the frighteningly cherry light than it had been the night before.

"Padma asked after you," Percy stiffened, immediately regretting the small movement as his muscles protested the action.

"You haven't…You didn't…" Percy trialed off not being able to even vocalize his fear of what the man who had once been his friend had done to his wife.

"She is unharmed Percy," getting to his feet he walked down the stairs making his way across the room on silent feet to crouch down beside the sitting red head. A gnarled hand absentmindedly drifting across the cuts on Percy's shoulder, "The baby is healthy, he should make an appearance in a few days. Don't worry though I will be properly prepared for when the time comes."

"Let her go, she has nothing to do with this Neville," Percy gasped as the fingers dug into his upper arm. His eyes locking with the feverish brown of the former Gryffindor, "Let her go."

Neville leaned back on his heels, "Making demands of me now? How very like the Percy I know and not the man who was begging for his life last night."

Percy closed his eyes in frustration, "She is innocent."

"I think you have said that before," getting to his feet Neville walked out of the basement a small smile playing on his lips he paused in the doorway looking down at Percy, "Perhaps I will let you see your son before I kill you."

Percy opened his eyes, the fire burning in them almost made him unrecognizable. Anger made the usually watery blue spark with something that hadn't been seen since the war.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Harry, is that you?" Harry smiled at the woman who had been his Transfiguration professor for his entire time at Hogwarts.

"Sorry to intrude like this Professor McGonagall," Harry stood up as the elderly witch approached him. Her stride wasn't as strong as it use to be, a distinctive limp made it so that she now relied on a cane. Pulling out the photos and all the notes he had made so far on the Weasley case, "I thought that you might be able to help on this one."

"I take it this is about Percy and Padma?" Minerva's voice was tired, more tired than Harry had ever heard even during the worst of the war.

"I was thinking that maybe you would see something that I missed," Harry spread the evidence out on the desk before her. Moving back so that she could look at it unhindered, Harry hovered just beyond her shoulder. "I was going over it, and it looks like Death Eater attack. The ferocity and the residual magic suggest spells mostly used by them, but…"

Minerva looked up from his neatly scrawled notes, "But what?"

"My gut is telling me that this isn't a Death Eater," Harry looked at her, his eyes showing his worry, "I don't know who is doing it but I know that it isn't a Death Eater."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Millicent took a deep breath, her lungs filling with the damp air of the sea. Looking over her shoulder she glared at the few guards that were visible to her walking along the perimeter of Azkaban. Never one to dawdle Millicent scooped up the small bag of belongings that the guards had given her, slinging it on her arm she grasped her wand tightly and left the island prison with a snap of her wrist. Home was out of the question so she went to the one place she knew that she would be welcomed.

"Blaise," Millicent dropped her bag on the foyer of her cousin's flat. Like most pureblooded families, Millicent could track her bloodline to almost any other pureblood wizarding family in the country. Blaise was one of the few that she didn't have that far to look for a connection, her mother was Blaise's first cousin and the two women had been close as children. Resulting in Blaise and Millicent growing up almost in each other's homes. Walking around the small but expensively decorated flat, Millicent ran a hand absently down the mantle place. Clucking her tongue when her finger came away with a good deal of dust attached, her mouth tilting up in a half smile Millicent walked down the hall to the kitchen. The halfhearted efforts at washing the dishes was evident in the few broken plates, and the forks still having food stuck to them. Blaise never did master the domestic spells as easily as he had the darker ones, mostly because he had believed that he would always have elves to handle that kind of thing. But he had been forced to seel most of his elves in order to bribe his way out of prison. Her wand idly held in her hand Millicent gave it an elegant wave, watching as the dishes flew back together before all of them flew to the sink and began to be scrubbed by a rather vigorous looking rag. Walking back into the living room, Millicent sent her wand to work dusting and shining the surfaces until they shined. Methodically she walked through the flat, cleaning five bedrooms, the den, dinning room, and three baths. The only room that remained was the master bedroom, cautiously Millicent opened the door. Pushing the door open so that the light from the hall came in to the darkened interior Millicent was forced to stifle her laugh at seeing her cousin sprawled face first onto the bed. His bare back was half hidden under the coverlet. Strolling over to the bed, Millicent opened the blinds with relish. Sending the light streaming into the bedroom in a harsh burst, Millicent reached down and swatted the barely covered behind firmly.

"What the hell?!" Blaise shot up, his dark blue eyes narrowing in anger before he focused fully on Millicent, "Millie?"

"Don't call me that," Millicent ordered, but she couldn't resist the smile that came to her lips as Blaise pulled her onto the bed with him and hugged her to him. Turning her head so that she could look him in the eyes, Millicent let out a contented sigh, "I was worried about you."

"Worried about me? You were the one that has been in prison the past three years," Blaise held her to him, running a hand over her face as if reassuring himself that she was real. Millicent tucked her head under his chin, letting him simply hold her.

"When did you get out," Blaise asked his hands locked around her back, holding her in place, "I didn't expect your appeal to go through for another month or two."

"You were the one that put my appeal in," Millicent asked out lout, her voice muffled against his neck.

"Yes, but I didn't think that it would be through for another month at least," Blaise leaned back away from her, his eyes searching for something.

Millicent leaned away from him, slowly extracting herself from his hold, "Come on lazy bones, I need to eat and you need a shower."

"Might I suggest that first you change," Blaise cast a sneer at the prison issued garb that she was wearing, "I think that my mother's robes are in the second guest room. Now get out of here before-."

Millicent glared at him before walking out of the room, closing the door softly on her way. Both she and Blaise had lost their parents during the war, but while she didn't mourn her father she like Blaise felt the loss of her mother deeply. Walking into the room he had indicated, she stripped out of the harsh woolen gown and picked out a set of conservative cream robes. After a quick refreshing charm on herself, Millicent pulled the soft natural fibered robe over her slim frame. Before the war she doubted if she would have even been able to fit one arm into Blaise mother's robes, now they hung off her in a pleasing manner. The hem fell a little to far below her feet, but a swish of her wand and that was fixed.

"Beautiful," Blaise whispered from his spot leaning on the doorway, holding out his hand to her, "I know someone that will be pleased to see you alive."

----------------------------------------

AN: I know this is a long time in coming, but I lost my inspiration for the longest time. Finally though I seem to have found some. Thanks goes out to everyone who has been patiently waiting for me to updtate. I hope that you will stick with me.


	5. Chapter 5

Ginny nodded absently to the Deputy of Magical Travel, sipping her champagne she groaned wishing that it was something stronger as the man continued to go on about alternatives to floo and apparition. A steady hand settled on her back, Ginny sighed as she leaned into the tall frame comfortably.

"Mr. Johansson, if you will pardon us I promised I would get my date home before too late," Ginny giggled into her hand as she imagined the pompous's man's face plummeting as his captive audience was being led away.

"And where have you been all night?" Ginny hissed as soon as they were a safe distance away from the overbearing smell of the officials cologne, "I swear Bill if you ever need a date for another one of these things you can give Ron a call."

"I was gone for a total of five minutes, you are over dramatizing as usual," Bill steered her effortlessly through the crowd, "And you were the one that volunteered mind you. Besides it did us both good to get good and drunk for a night…"

"I'm sorry, I know it must be hard on you with Fleur being away in France on top of worrying about Percy and Padma," Ginny tightened her grip on his hand, stopping them short as she turned him to face her, "Why don't you go-."

Bill lurched forward his hands scrambling at her arms to hold her steady as he was pushed into her. Ginny gave a startled yelp, and tried to regain her footing strong hands settled on her shoulders holding her against a firm body. Ginny inhaled sharply at the contact, the clean refreshing smell of soap over-layed the familiar smell of leather and wood.

"Weasley," Bill stiffened as he looked at Blaise Zabini, who was holding his sister steady after he had all but knocked her to the ground, "You should watch yourself, wouldn't want your pretty little sister to get hurt in this crowd."

Ginny blushed, a hand reaching out to her brother, "Bill?"

Bill grasped Ginny's hand pulling her away from the dark eyed look the blonde slytherin was giving her without her knowledge, "Thank-you Zabini."

Ginny quirked an eyebrow at the name, "Blaise?"

Blaise smiled at Ginny, something in his eyes didn't sit well with Bill and he glared at the slytherin when he answered Ginny his tone low and dark with meaning, "Anytime Ginevra."

"There you are," the strange group turned as a bored looking Millicent Bulstrode joined them, "When I said I would only be a minute I didn't mean for you to go running off and abandon me to these jackals."

Ginny smiled, turning her head to her brother she whispered for him to tell her who had joined them. Bill floundered for a moment, he stared at the short dark haired woman, her violet eyes and wide mouth something that he knew he should recognize but couldn't.

Blaise answered the question that the siblings had assumed had gone unnoticed by their companions, "Millicent Bulstrode, Bill and Ginny Weasley."

Millicent refrained from sneering at the name Weasley, holding out her hand, "A pleasure-. Merlin, are you blind?"

Ginny laughed, Bill sucked in an outraged breath and Blaise stared at Millicent as if she had grown another head. Everyone in the wizarding world new of the youngest Weasley's affliction and out of some unspoken rule spoke not a word of it. Like most wounds gained during the war Ginny's blindness was seen but not talked about, it did both sides good to forget the horrors that one could inflict on another and the innocent that sometimes got caught in the cross fire.

Blaise was the first to show any sign of life, "A cursed object on a dead body if I am not mistaken."

Millicent nodded, leaning closer she reached up to remove the sunglasses that Ginny was wearing to hide her eyes. Bill caught her hand in a vise grip, smirking Millicent raised an eyebrow, "I simply want to examine her eyes, I am a trained healer."

"Let her Bill," Ginny whispered, a hand coming up to rest on his while the other removed the glasses. Automatically she blinked her eyes to put moisture in the orbs, "Well Healer Bulstrode."

Millicent smiled, "You were trained under Rhodes weren't you? For your preliminaries."

"Yes, he was a terror," Ginny laughed tilting her head as Millicent's sure hand settled on her chin and moved her towards the light, "Did he make you remove pus from butober's when ever you missed a question?"

"Yes, I was actually glad when I left because we were forever butting heads," Millicent's breath ghosted over her cheeks, "I would think that being a Weasley and connected practically to Potter's hip would have had you cured by now."

"The Healers said it was irreversible," Bill muttered glaring at the dark haired witch, "We have had specialists and so far nothing."

Millicent turned her attention to him for a brief moment, her eyes widening before she turned back to Ginny, "They were wrong. I would like to work with you if you would allow it."

Ginny stepped back away from Millicent retreating into her brother's solid strength, "I..I don't know-."

"Absolutely not," Bill said firmly, wrapping his arm around his sister's shoulders, "I will not let a Death-."

"She was one of our top Healers Weasley, and either side of the war that says a lot," Blaise pointed out, "If she can help Ginevra then let her and this is supposed to be the time of peace isn't it? And aren't you supposed to be part of those who took the higher road?"

Bill flinched at the cultured voice and the menacing look the blonde sent with his words, "What makes you think that you can do anything different than the experts that we have seen?"

"My grandmother was Adelaide Delaine, she was a leading Healer and I study under her since I was seven till her death my seventh year," Millicent shifted on her feet Blaise moving forward to stand beside her sending a warning look to Bill so to keep things in check.

"Your grandmother was Madame Delaine? I have read some of her texts on herbal remedies mixed with magical objects," Ginny's interest was peaked.

"She was writing on curses and the antidotes to them when she died, perhaps going through her papers will lead to a cure," Millicent offered, "But I don't guarantee that the answer will be found, but you don't have anything to lose."

* * *

Ginny ran through the empty halls her laughter pealing out behind her, "Darcy." 

Draco stepped out onto the balcony overlooking the first floor, leaning his forearms on the wooden railing he called out, "Why are you yelling?"

Ginny whirled around her long curls flowing out behind her, "What are you doing up there? Come down I want to celebrate."

Draco began walking down the stairs, his face clear of any emotion other than barely there annoyance, "And why are we celebrating?"

"Millicent Bulstrode is going to research to see if she can possibly find a cure for my eyes," Ginny walked towards him a bottle of champagne in her hand, "Now break out the glasses and open this and celebrate with me."

"Bossy today aren't we," Draco took the bottle from her, placing her fingers lightly on his arm as he lead them through the house to the kitchen, snapping his fingers he ordered glasses from Kreacher. Settling Ginny in on a recently refurbished couch in the parlor off to the side of the breakfast room, he opened the champagne. Taking the glasses from the elf the dismissed him with a nod, "And is there hope in her finding a cure?"

"Her grandmother was Madame Adelaide Delaine, she is probably the fore leading expert on curse objects and there cures," Ginny took the glass with a smile, "Thank-you, and I should probably say that she was the leading expert…She died some time ago."

"Don't get your hopes up," Draco warned sipping cautiously at his drink, grimacing at the bubbly liquor.

"I swear you are about as pessimistic as my brother. The entire time after the dinner at the Ministry he was telling me how I shouldn't get my hopes up and how I should not even trust her."

"Should you? She is a known Death Eater," Draco set his glass down watching as she took a hearty sip of the amber drink. Sitting down in a chair across from her he waited for her to explain why she was trusting someone who had probably tried to kill her at some point in time.

"_There is a twofold Silence-sea and shore-Body and soul_," Ginny whispered, biting her lip she turned her head away, taking a long sip of her champagne Ginny held the glass out for a refill.

Draco leaned forward slipping her glass out of her fingers and putting his own in place of it, "Poe."

Ginny grinned, "So you do, do something besides fix this place up and resist my overtures."

"I am not one of your uneducated ruffian relatives," Draco snapped, "I read him during school. And for someone who was so set against me being related to a Death Eater are very eager to be treated by one."

"No other explanation as to why you've read a muggle poet other than it was during school," Ginny asked her tone turning brittle, "Seeing as you _are_ related to some of the most notorious Death Eaters-."

"I didn't ask you to come into my home," Draco snarled, "if you want answers then go ask someone who actually invited you into their lives."

Ginny flinched back, draining the glass she set it down on the ground. Getting to her feet she swayed for a second, "I am sorry for imposing. I'll go."

Draco watched her walk out of the room, her cane swishing angrily through the air. Rolling his eyes he caught up to her in a few long strides, his hand grasping her arm, "Wait."

Ginny turned her head towards him, "Why? You don't want me here, you-."

"Merlin woman will you just shut your mouth," Draco shook her for good measure, "I read Poe because I was bored at my Godfather's house one break, he is half-muggle and had a great deal of literature on hand."

Ginny leaned back against him, "So does that mean we can spend the rest of the day in bed?"

Draco snorted, "Get your mind out of the gutter."

* * *

Arthur looked up from his coffee as his office door was eased open, the dark haired man stepping in gave him a charming smile that was reminiscent of his mother's too much for Arthur's liking, "Mister Zabini, to what do I owe the pleasure." 

Blaise's smile faltered for a moment at hearing the underlining mockery in the Weasley patriarch's voice. Shaking it off, he sat down across from the older man without permission, "I am here on behalf of all the _reformed_ Death Eaters."

"Really," Arthur placed his mug down on his desk, leaning forward he laughed, "And why would you come down to my humble little office? Other than the war I have nothing to do with you and yours, aside from making sure that you can never hurt another person again."

"Well aren't we just a bit bitter," his eyes darkening, "Listen I for one am tired of all the blood shed and running, I am happy we lost. The world isn't ready for us and I know it, but I refuse to sit by and be blamed for every little misstep of mankind."

"You're talking about Percy and Padma," Arthur whispered, his shock made the already deep lines of aging sink deeper into his face, "And what do you know about my family?"

"I know how to find them," Blaise answered matter factly, "I give you this and you give me something in return."

Arthur gave him an assessing look, "And what do I have that you could want?"

"Lucius Malfoy," Blaise said matter of fact, "You get him out of Azkaban and I will bring your son and daughter home."

* * *

Ginny smiled as she sat in the garden of Darcy's home, the raspy breathing of the elf next to her the only noise besides the tinkling sounds of the fountain and those of nature. 

"Does Missus want something cool to drink," the elf paused in its weeding of the garden to look at the red head who was sitting so still next to him, patiently holding a basket of bulbs to be planted.

"No thank-you," Ginny pushed her sunglasses up on to the top of her head grinning she let her head fall back to feel the sun's warmth, "You know I still don't know your name?"

Kreacher bit his tongue, knowing that if he were to tell her his name then his Master would be in trouble for his trickery, "I have no name."

"Really? That's strange, I though all elves were given names," Ginny frowned, her freckles blending together as her forehead wrinkled, "I can't imagine going without a name…Perhaps you would like one?"

Kreacher glared at her, it wasn't the impudent little blood traitor's right to give him a name, "If my Master wants me to have a name then he will name me-."

"Darcy won't mind if we come up with a name for you," Ginny waved her hand in dismissal, a thoughtful look coming on her face, "I once knew an elf named Dobby…he was a very nice little fellow. Had a peculiar obsession with socks."

Kreacher leaned forward suddenly eager, he knew Dobby from his time as a Malfoy elf. In fact the younger elf was his cousin of sorts, and though he had betrayed his Master he had been kind to Kreacher when he was forced to spy on him, "I knows Dobby."

"You do?" Ginny turned her blank eyes to him, a gentle smile on her face, "He was the best. Always cheerful and so helpful…"

"Was?"

Ginny faltered at the worried tone in the elf's voice, her hands fidgeting on the basket, "Dobby was killed in the war. When Hogwarts was attacked Dobby was caught by some Death Eaters trying to protect the students-."

"He was killed," both Kreacher and Ginny turned to the new comer, "He died saving a first year."

"Harry, what are you doing here?" Ginny moved the basket to the ground, the elf shuffling back a couple of feet as she stood up to greet the dark haired Auror.

"I came to check on a few things," Harry glared at the elf, "I didn't expect to find you here though, I would imagine that with Bulstrode working on your case that you would be hold up some where going over dusty old tomes with her."

"I am not of much use like this," trying to keep her tone light she couldn't hide the frown that started to tilt her lips. Pulling her glasses down over her eyes she self-consciously began to fiddle with her shirt, of all the people she knew Harry was the only one next to her father that could make her feel like a child with nothing more than a word that hinted of disapproval.

Harry sighed, "Where is Ma-."

"Auror Potter," Draco called his tone light and friendly but his expression dark, "It is a bit early for you isn't it?"

Harry stiffened, "Well given the way that things are lately I figured that I should check up on things around here."

Draco gave him a bored look, "If you must."

His eyes wandering to the petite redhead Draco nodded to the elf, "I believe that it is time for you to go home."

"But," Ginny protested, her hand slipping from the elf's as soon as it brushed her fingers, "I was hoping to at least stay for dinner."

"Don't push your luck Red," Draco grumbled, "You can come back tomorrow if you still want to just sit around and be a nuisance."

Ginny laughed, "A nuisance am I? I wonder do all the women you shag get that nickname as well."

Harry turned red, his wand clenched in his hand as Draco glared benignly at the woman in front of them, "Elf."

"Yes Master," Draco stepped out of the way as the elf and girl apparated out of the garden.

"Have you? She's fucking blind Malfoy," Harry spluttered his anger bubbling, "I swear I think you have reached as low as you can get and then-."

"Dear Merlin, are all of you Gryffindor's such an annoying set of over dramatic gits," Draco pondered, "I haven't touched her. She provides an annoying sense of clarity to my world and nothing more."

Draco stuffed his hands in his pockets and began to walk to the house, turning he stared at the unmoving man, "Well are you coming? I have an entire mansion to refurbish and you standing around with your thumb up your arse isn't helping."

"Clarity?" Harry whispered, repeating it louder when the blonde just raised an eyebrow at him, "Why does she provide clarity?"

His shoulders tensing for a moment before slouching in a way that Harry knew from school as the skulking boy who had tormented him, Draco gave a tiny tilt of his lips in a smirk, "Looking at her reminds me of where I stand in this world Potter. I may not have been the one that hurt her, but I will always be treated like him and that lets me know my limits."

"I thought men like you didn't have limits?" Harry jogged up to him as Draco started into the house, "I mean wasn't that what being a Death Eater is all about? Not answering to anyone but yourself."

"I was born to be a Death Eater, just as you were born to be the Hero of the wizarding world," Draco stopped infront of a faded tapestry, the knight and dragon woven into the thick cloth were faded and burned in places but still hinted at the power and wealth that had once made it a brilliant work. Looking at the tapestry Draco pointed to the dragon, "You look at this tapestry and see a knight conquering a blood thirsty dragon, I see a dragon getting slaughtered for doing what it was born to do. It is all about perspective, and the Weasley girl provides me with a perspective on my place in the world. Prevents spineless do-gooders like yourself from skewering me with a long stick."

Harry gave him a blank look as Draco walked away, but when the blond ducked into a side room Harry turned back to the tapestry at the bottom written in gold silk was the words _Familia Fideles Defendit_, his breath let out in a whisper, "Family protects the faithful."

* * *

Millicent was tired of the staring, taking a last sip of her tea she dumped a handful of coins on the table. A hand nervously played with the hem the table cloth before standing up and leaving the small coffee shop. Mindful of the inquiring eyes on her Millicent walked out between the tables not meeting the eyes that were directed to her by tilting her head up in a way that she had seen her mother do several times. Stepping out into the sunlight Millicent waited till she was around the corner before relaxing. Her shoulders rolling as if she was releasing a weighty burden and head falling back to welcome the sun. Millicent reached the entrance to Gringotts with little acknowledgement from any of the people who she met along the rather empty side road. Walking into the cool darkness provided by the marble encrusted building, her shoes clicking on the floor Millicent cast a speculative eye over the assortment of people and Goblins that were milling about the lobby. A lone goblin caught her attention, the little creature's ears perking up as she walked towards him. He stood up and waited as she approached him, Millicent gave him an assessing look noting the small gold cord sweeping across from his pocket to the left breast of his vest, marking him as a second floor manager. Satisfied that his rank was suitable to attend her needs Millicent took the seat he motioned to across from the expanse of his desk. 

"Miss Bulstrode, we have been expecting you," the gravelly voice was grating on her ears but Millicent politely inclined her head in acknowledgement of his politeness. , "As you know your parents funds and lands have been confiscated by the government."

"I am aware of that," Millicent's tone was to the point, giving him a cool glance she straightened further in her chair, "My grandmother had a vault here also, upon her death I was named the soul heir. As her death was some years ago, and I have been unable to come see to the contents of the vault till now I wish to do so now."

The goblin leaned away from her his fingers working rhythmically for a moment, "Your grandmother Mistress Adelaide Delaine if I am correct. You understand that it too was taken by the ministry?"

"The items that were listed to be in the vault had no value to anyone other than myself," Millicent's voice cracked a bit at the thought of the Auror's going through her Grandmother's keepsakes and such with disdainful looks and greasy hands, "I was not notified that they had even been granted access to the vault. I thought that Gringotts was an establishment that was valued for their trustworthiness…"

"Pardon me Flintling," Millicent snapped her head around to look at the man who had interrupted her tirade. Bill Weasley stood above her in his pristine robes a polite look of business on his face, 'If you will allow me, perhaps I can help you Miss Bulstrode."

The small goblin gave her an almost pitting look before he shuffled off, leaving the to alone in the relatively quiet lobby. Bill stood back motioning towards a small door, "Would you care to go some where less public for this talk?"

Millicent didn't say a word, rising to her feet she followed him, her head held high she glared at the pompous looks that a matron sent towards her as Bill ushered her away from prying eyes. The small hallway branched off into more hallways and offices, Bill motioned her into a small but neat looking office off a side hallway. Closing the door behind him he gave her a smile as he walked around his desk.

"I must say that I expected you a lot earlier," Bill gave her a discreet once over, making Millicent all to aware of the robes she wore were second hand and out of date, "I understand that you are wanting the contents of your grandmother's vault."

"Yes," Millicent leaned back away from his bright blue eyes, thankful that the expanse of the desk was between her and the wizard who was looking at her as if she were nothing more than a speck of lint, "I was under the assumption that the vault was deemed unnecessary and would be left alone by the Ministry."

"Given your family and their standing nothing should be left to assumption," Bill tapped a quill against the table top, "I can get you what was left behind, though I doubt you will find anything of true value-."

"And what makes you the expert of what I consider valuable or not," Millicent sent him a condescending look, "Mementos of her childhood, photographs, and more importantly her journals."

"A few dark objects, several books that are currently banned by the Ministry," Bill glanced down at a piece of parchment eyes locking on hers when he looked back up, "And her journals which are now under consideration by the Ministry, being looked at in consideration for any Dark Arts content that could be dangerous for public knowledge."

Millicent soaked in his words with a face that grew paler and paler at each word, pale with fury. Her hands clinched in the fabric of her skirt, "My Grandmother was no practioner of the Dark Arts, and those journals were her life's work."

Bill nodded, but Millicent got the distinct impression that she was being placated and no real meaning was behind the gesture, "I want those journals Weasley."

"I can get you the other effects by the end of the hour providing that you have a key to the vault," Bill waited for her to hand him the key, his motions every bit as dismissive as his ignoring of her request.

Millicent tossed the key at him, "And the journals?"

"They are with the ministry," Bill picked the small tarnished key off the desk top where it had landed, "I suggest that you put a request in to them if you want the journals…Providing that they have no harmful information in them then you might get them back in time."

"Do you want your sister to see again," her voice was unforgiving as she glared at him with fire in her violet eyes, "I would think that a loving brother wouldn't want his sister to be dependent on others. I would think that you would try to do whatever you could to get her the care that she needs and the-."

"And I would think that given your history and mine you would know that I have no more use for you than you do I," Bill stood up, walking to the door, "If you would stay here I will have your things fetched, and then you can be on your way."

Millicent waited as he left the small office, her leg jiggling with frustration she got up and paced the confines of the square room. Eyes glancing over his pictures and various things of comfort that he had used to personalize the small space. Picking up a gilded framed snap shot of a pale blonde woman and Bill himself, Millicent recognized Fleur from the time she had spent in Hogwarts for the Tri Wizard Tournament. She sneered at the almost too pretty woman standing next to the scarred Bill Weasley, the contrast was startling. Millicent put the photo down as the door opened, turning she put on a blank mask as Bill walked in a box of various things in his arms. Millicent frowned at the small size of the box, "Your wife went to France? Took your children with her too?"

"Not that it is any concern of you but yes, Fleur and the boys went to France till Percy and Padma are brought back," Bill shifted the box, looking at her he cocked his head to the side, "You can try all you want to try to get on my good side but you are still a Death Eater to me."

"And you are fool," Millicent snatched the box from him, a quick swish of her wand had it shrunken and secured in her coat pocket. Pushing past him Millicent stopped when they were level, "I wonder Weasley, do you feel self conscious when with your beautiful wife. I mean look at you, I will no doubt be known as a Death Eater for a while but the stigma will fade…You on the other hand will always frighten small children and be considered a monster."

* * *

Padma groaned as pain lanced through her back and belly. Her hands clutching the bed covers she bit her lip hard to keep from screaming out. A cool wet cloth on her forehead did nothing to help ease her discomfort, in fact the presence beside her made her shift away more than anything else. 

"Don't be that way Padma," Padma glared at her old classmate as he looked down on her in pity, "I expect the baby is going to make an appearance in little time. I am only trying to help you as much as possible, don't make this any harder than it has to be."

Padma looked away from him, sweat making her thin nightgown and long brown hair stick to her, "Get away from me. I want Percy."

"You want Percy," Neville mocked, his voice scratchy as his anger made his scars even more prevalent, "Your precious Percy is cowering in his own piss. Maybe if you behave I will let him see you and the baby before he dies."

Padma opened her mouth to say something when her stomach stiffened as the muscles contracted and her entire body stiffened in response. Neville moved quicker than she would have thought possible, and was examining her with the same indifference that she herself had given others before she could remember to breathe through the pain. His gnarled hands on her knees were a distant thought to the pain that was lacing through her. A few seconds felt like hours really each time the contractions hit, and Padma slumped back on the bed in relief. Her pulse pounding Padma gave a whimper as she tried to pull her legs closed and his hands prevented it.

His examination was brief and thorough, "You are almost there, just a few more centimeters and you will be ready."

Padma nodded, her body weakening, she had started having contractions at lunch time and it was past supper now. She knew that if she wanted both her baby and herself to survive she needed to let Neville help her, but Padma hated to let him near her. She glared at him, at least as much as she could glare in her weakened state. Sweat made her lank hair stick to her forehead and neck, her belly was tight with the oncoming labor. Her hand reaching out she grabbed his hand, "Please, let me see Percy."

Neville looked at her, and for a moment Padma could see the boy that had once been her friend inside the man who she hated, "After."

So began the pain, Padma could remember nothing of the pain truly, because three more hours of labor delivered to her a small screaming boy. Neville let her hold him as he quickly healed the tears she had received, his movements were quick and precise as mother and son studied one another. Padma kissed her son's bloody little head, whispering to him love words that she had never felt for another person; not even her husband or twin.

"Padma," Neville hooked his hands under the small body, "I have to clean him up Padma, let go."

Padma gave him a weak smile, "He's beautiful isn't he?"

"The most beautiful little boy I have ever seen," Neville agreed, wrapping the baby in his arms he walked over to a changing table set up in the corner. Setting the baby down, Neville made quick work of cleaning the baby. Making sure the baby was secure he pulled a vial out of his pocket, a syringe gleaming in his hand as he walked over to Padma.

"Neville? What are you doing," Padma flinched away from him, trying to move but her body was to weak from the exertion of birth to make it more than a few inches from the approaching man. She watched him as he carefully swabbed her elbow before injecting her with the liquid from the vial. It burned like fire in her skin, her low moan of pain muffled in her pillow as she turned her head away from the pain, "What did you give me?"

"Shush, you are going to make the baby upset," Neville brushed her hair out of her face, his hand soft and kind despite the feeling of dread that was pooling in her stomach Padma leaned into the first human touch she had had since the ordeal began. Neville slowly backed away, his eyes glinting in the dim light of the room, "Go to sleep now Padma."

"Where are you taking my baby?" Padma twisted her head to watch him, trying to lift her neck as he picked the small wriggling bundle up and started to leave the room, "No, don't take him…Neville, give me my baby. Please-please…"

Neville turned in the doorway, holding the baby close as the woman on the bed collapsed backwards her eyes closing from the potion he had given her. Cooing softly to the little boy in his arms he pulled the door closed behind him. The room deathly still as the lock clicked into place.

-----------------------------------

------------------------------------------

A.N: So there is the newest chapter in what is turning out to be a very sad story...Honestly I was hoping to write a light hearted fic and now I am about to cry because of what I writing and where this is headed. So please don't hate me too much everybody, I hope that you like it enough to keep reading.


	6. Chapter 6

Ginny nodded absently to the Deputy of Magical Travel, sipping her champagne she groaned that it wasn't something stronger as

_Ginny watched as the wizards whizzed by through her omniculars the roar of the crowd was deafening but her heart was pumping with it in tandem. Her brothers were around her their yells echoing hers as they all screamed at the flyers. She was squeezed against George and Ron, normally she would have been angry about and have shoved them to get more room but tonight she was too caught up in the game to care about the elbows that occasionally jabbed in her sides. Laughing as the players whipped by them Ginny glanced to her right to share in the joy that was written on her brother's face and perhaps catch Harry's eye._

_A flash of white drew her attention behind her even further, the boy who she had despised before she even knew what hate was was smiling as he too watched the game. Sitting next to his mother Draco Malfoy could have passed for any other well to do boy as his eyes shined while he watched the game. His lips curled in a smile that though small was just as exuberant in its own way as her own. Ginny's breath caught as she watched him follow the match with a slight tilt of his head to either side, occasionally raising his own looking glasses to catch a movement far off. His easy grace and the nonchalance's didn't mask the joy he had in just watching and Ginny couldn't tear her eyes away. The players must have come back her way because his eyes flashed to her, at first looking past her and then they were on her. His smile faltered and Ginny felt her own curve her lips in encouragement. A second nothing more and his lips tilted up at the corners and the Slytherin Prince smiled at her, it was nothing but a splice of time and then it was over because an elbow hit her in the side and her attention was back on the game. _

"Ginny?" Ginny turned towards her father, her feet coming down to stop the swing she had been relaxing on as her father came up to her on the porch, "What are you doing out her Ginny-bean?"

"Remembering the Quidditch World Cup," Ginny leaned against the wooden slats of the swing's back, "We were all so happy that night."

"It was a good day," Arthur came around the swing and sat down next to her, smiling when Ginny leaned into him, "I remember you couldn't tear your eyes away from the match, or Harry."

Ginny laughed, "I was rather obvious wasn't I? I still wonder sometimes what would have happened to him and me if…if well you know."

Arthur nodded, leaning over he kissed the top of her head gently, "He loves you still."

"I won't do that to him Dad, I can't," Ginny whispered, "I love him but I can't be a burden to him."

"Ginny you could never be a burden to anyone," his voice rose as he hugged her to him with added force, "I am sorry that I made you feel like you were-."

"Dad, Ginny," Ron yelled from the kitchen, pushing the door open he stepped out onto the porch, "Dinner is ready when you are."

"Thank you Ron," Ginny grinned at her brother getting up she held her hand out to him, wordlessly he grasped her hand in his and pulled her into the house, "You didn't leave the biscuits in to long did you?"

"No, took them out when they were just turning golden," Ron let out quickly his tone evident of his guilt at having already sampled the treats, "Come on Dad, Bill is setting the table."

Arthur wiped a hand over his face watching the gnomes running around after the few fairies in the back garden. By this time next week his family would be whole again, and despite the dread filling him Arthur knew the price had been nothing compared to the fact that his family would be together again. His eyes closing for a moment as a breeze swept across his cheek he whispered into the darkening sky, "Molly forgive me."

* * *

Harry gave his wand over to the guard with a nod, "Nice to see you again Jacobson."

"I wasn't expecting you back so soon Auror Potter," the other man said, his smile friendly despite the austere setting around them, "You know the rules no giving the prisoner anything, no reaching across the table, not touching and if you need anything a guard will be right outside monitoring the visit-."

"And I will receive my wand back at the end of the visit," Harry finished for him, his grin answered on the guard's face, "Thank you Jacobson."

The guard pushed the door open and stepped aside for Harry to pass through giving the dark haired auror a nod before closing the door with a click. Harry looked at the man sitting magically shackled in his chair across the small expanse of floor. Clearing his throat he walked over to take the only other seat in the room, separated from the prisoner by a bare metal table.

"Harry Potter," the voice was a smooth and deep as the first time he had heard it more than a decade earlier. Harry bit back the urge duck his head in an effort to avoid the hard black gaze, "I was beginning to wonder who they had dragged me out of my cell for, I had hoped it was for some pencil pusher but alas it seems I am to endure your infernal presence once again."

"You are looking well Professor," Harry the title slipping out of his mouth before he could stop him self.

The other man hissed, "I am no longer your Professor, Potter. I am no longer even your equal, I am a prisoner. And even prisoners are allowed some rights, and I would like you to respect my wishes and cease coming by for these visits."

Harry turned his head away from the hard and unrelenting stare, "You are set for a parole hearing in a month, I was planning on speaking on your behalf but if you don't want me to-."

"Trying to black mail me Potter, how pathetic," the laughter in the ragged man's voice was harsh on both of their ears, "I am the one that killed your precious Dumbledore, I am not getting out of here even with the savior of the wizarding world speaking for me. So if you will kindly remove yourself from my presence."

"Snape-," Harry began his temper flaring as the other man leaned forward as far as his bonds could permit and practically snarled at him.

"I said get out Potter," Severus Snape was little changed from the imposing Potions Professor that walked into that dungeon so long ago. Where as before he was clouded in mystery and power of position that had baffled the young students he taught, now he was a man who was being forced to pay for the crimes that he had committed whether those crimes were for a good cause or not had never been up for discussion. Years spent in a damp cell seeing the light of day once a month had given him almost translucent skin, and the gleam of anger in his eyes made those who came into contact with the former spy think of a trapped animal. An animal that was willing to lash out at anyone or thing, even go so far as to chew his own limb off to escape, to live.

Harry stared at the man who was little more than an animal, an animal that he had helped create. Harry had wasted no time when two years after the war began and Severus Snape had been captured to testify in his trial as to the happenings on the Tower the night of Albus Dumbledore's death. With his testimony and Snape's own confession as to the fact it had given the Tribunal great pleasure to sentence the Death Eater to prison. A prison sentence that had been life till the recent release of one Draco Malfoy, and with his release others had began to think of the former potions master. Thinking led to the publicity and favor that would be gained the public if Severus Snape came up for parole and was found guilty once again, this simple act would assure the public that the Ministry was not bought. Though his body and mind were derelict copies of what they had once been Snape knew that this parole that Harry was speaking of was nothing but a publicity stunt.

Harry's shoulders sagged and he made to leave, not missing the triumphant look in the older man's eyes as he got up. His hand was on the door, poised to knock to be let out when he stopped. Whirling around Harry pulled out the papers he had been carrying in his coat, stomping over he threw the papers on the table and watched as the skidded across the surface to rest under the greasy hooked nose.

"That is what is left of Percy and Padma's house," the charred ruins were smoldering slightly in the photo, "Padma, is nearly to term with their first child."

His hand reached across the table to move the top picture aside in favor of the most recent picture he had been able to find of the couple. Percy was holding Padma from behind his hands caressing her swelling stomach, her hands over his as she leaned back against him.

"Their was no mark in the sky, no bodies recovered in the ash," Harry continued flipping the pictures so that each and every shot taken of the smoldering house could be seen from every angle, "Tell me, does this look like the work of a Death Eater."

Snape glared at him, glancing down a the photos he raise his head mutely to give Harry a smirk, "All those resources and you have to come to me for answers."

Harry gritted his teeth, bracing himself on the table he leaned across so that even if Snape wanted to look away he couldn't, "I don't care if you rot in here for the rest of your life, and you know that don't you? I don't care and the rest of the world doesn't either, but once a long time ago someone put his trust in you. He put his life in your hands and trusted you with what he considered most precious, now it is time you repaid his trust."

Snape's nostril's flared, but before he could answer the door opened and the guard stepped into the room, "Auror Potter."

Harry leaned back glaring at Snape he gathered the photos and walked to the door, the guard was holding it open for him a look of disapproval on his face at Harry's previous lack of decorum.

"Before I was captured their were rumors going around about the Order Members that were captured trying to infiltrate the Ranks, gather information on who was connected to the Dark Lord," Snape's voice was cool and calm, the deep timber stopping Harry before he reached the door. Waving the guard away Harry turned back around as Snape continued, "I don't know what they were trying to accomplish. They were caught of course, or at least one of them was."

Harry took his seat slowly watching as Snape eyes took on a glazed look, "Go on."

Snape stared past him, "War changes everything, even the sanest of people discover that they need a coping mechanism just to get through the week. As a spy I was exposed to the cruelties of both sides, and don't give me that self righteous look Potter you know full well the treatment that Death Eaters received from your so called heroes."

Harry bit his tongue to keep from a smart retort instead he placed the pictures face up in front of the bound man, "What about this man?"

"So you do entertain that it was one of your own that has done this, interesting," Snape relaxed in his chair, as much as he could given he was held by his wrists and ankles to the metal arms and legs. Harry's expression was less than hospitable but Snape just sat there for a moment before finally continuing, "Percy Weasley was one of the Order members who tried to expose the Death Eater spies. I don't know how many others were with him. But Percy named at least one other man, his partner in all this he said."

"Who was his partner?" Harry asked more to himself than to Snape, trying to remember the details of a mission that he didn't even remember hearing about.

"A fellow Gryffindor of course," Snape's eyes glittered for a moment, "Someone who should have not been forgotten as he was. Someone who I even forgot about till I heard his screams of pain through the dungeon. He kept many of the Death Eaters entertained, I believe Bellatrix was particularly fond of him."

Harry gasped, "Neville."

"So now you remember your plump little friend, strange how he seemed to flee your mind isn't it?" Snape gave him an assessing look, "You who represent the best our world has to offer forgot your classmate, simply wrote him off as a casualty of war when you couldn't even remember his face any longer."

"What happened to him? Where is he?" Harry fired at Snape, his brows knitting together as he stared at the pictures with a new light of knowledge in his eyes.

"Hell happened to him Potter, he became a plaything for people who had little sanity to begin with," Snape's eyes narrowed minutely, "As for where he is, that is a foolish question to ask considering I haven't seen outside these walls since my trial five years ago."

Harry cursed under his breath, "Don't play the self righteous martyr with me Snape, I was there I saw you curse Dumbledore without a seconds hesitation-."

"You saw! You saw what he wanted you and the others to see, a faithful Death Eater fulfilling his duty to his Lord," Snape strained forward his pale cheeks reddening under his greasy beard, "You didn't see the fights that we had when Albus ordered me to kill him. You didn't see anything Potter, but that doesn't stop you or any of them from condemning to this hell."

"Enough Auror Potter," Harry turned to give the guard a piece of his mind for the interruption but the hard stare caught him off guard. Jacobson stepped into the room giving Harry no choice in the decision to leave, "Your time is up."

Harry gathered his photos together clutching them to his chest he walked to the door Snape called out to him his voice smooth as it was the first time he heard it, "I heard a rumor that Lucius was being released, give him my best would you."

Harry made to turn to question Snape further but the guard stepped in his way and he was forced to back up a step. As Jacobson pulled the door to the interview room closed Harry caught Snape's eye and the gleam of light that had been missing previously was startling to see in his haggard face. Then the wooden barrier of the door was in place and Harry was left facing a disgruntled guard who didn't know what the light in Snape's eyes could possibly mean, so turning on his heel Harry snatched his wand up and left the cold stone island as quickly as he could.

* * *

Draco relaxed back against the softness of the rug he had only just purchased that morning, his body sinking a good two inches into the softness he gave a sigh at the forgotten simple pleasure. He had finally finished the bedroom suite that had once belonged to his father and mother; the rug had been the final touch. Opening his eyes he looked up at the tiered ceiling done in ivory and dark chestnut wood, it was a simple room nothing like the gold gilded concoction that his mother had so adored but the elegance of the room was still the same. The built-ins had been the hardest to restore but he was satisfied with the job he had done.

"Master there is a man coming up the drive," Draco turned to look at the small elf, Kreacher bowed before apparating away to answer the door for the intruding guest.

With a mumbled curse Draco stood up, his back cracking in protest as he walked out of his newly finished sanctuary. He was at the head of the stairs when Kreacher opened the door before the man could knock. Draco almost smiled when he saw the red head standing with his hands in his pockets just inside the door, keeping his expression clear of emotion he walked down the stairs, "Weasley, I would have thought you wouldn't have been so bold in your next attempt to kill me but it seems that you have surprised me with this bold approach."

"Malfoy I didn't come here to kill you," Fred growled his hands shoved deep in his pockets to keep from hitting the man walking towards him, "I cam to ask why the other night you let me go."

Draco raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at his lips, "I can see why my mercy would confuse you."

"Mercy? You killed my brother when he was already wounded-," Fred couldn't even finish the sentence his anger choking him off.

"Your twin? Do you know who cursed him?" Draco snapped, his cool demeanor flaking away as he stepped forward so that he was within arms reach of the other man, "Roldophus Lestrange, he likes torturing his victims before he kills them. Usually he wounds them so that they can't get away and then slowly he begins severing ligaments and tendons. Cutting off extremities when he chooses, would you like me to describe the pain he can make a person endure before their body is left to nothingness? Or better yet what he has in store for the ones he can get away from the battle field. Those are the ones he likes to really play with."

"Enough," Fred had turned a ghostly shade of white as he lashed out at Draco physically to stop the mental image he was getting of his twin lying there at the Death Eaters mercy, at seeing the other half of himself so helpless to stop the things that were happening. Fist flying out he connected with Draco's jaw knocking the Slytherin backwards into a table against the foyer wall. Fred looked down at his hands as Draco righted himself, as if checking to see if it was in fact him that had just punched the blonde.

"What don't want to hear the truth? Don't want to hear that I put your brother out of his misery," Draco taunted his grey eyes narrowed as he looked at the red head, "Your forces were in retreat, you couldn't have gone back to help him he was going to come back with us. I did what was right and you know it."

"You could have called Lestrange off," Fred shouted, "You could have seen that the prisoners were treated fairly-."

"For fucks sake Weasley," Draco cut him off, "It was war not a damn tea party."

"He was my brother," Fred cried, not realizing that tears had even gathered in his eyes till they began to fall, "You just got off on killing a Weasley."

Draco was across the room and holding the red head up by his robes, "Fuck you Weasley. I am not hear for you to put your guilt on, I did what I had to do to survive. I am sorry that you think the world is black and white. Now get the fuck out of my house."

Shoving the red head back Draco turned his back and began walking away, having already dismissed the other man from his mind he didn't see Fred raising his wand at his back. The spell was strong with anger and sorrow hitting Draco in his defenseless back with enough force to knock him off his feet and cause him to skid across the floor into the bottom of the stairs. His head making contact with the stone of the steps with a loud crack, skin splitting and blood beginning to stain his blonde hair as Fred walked over to look down at his victim.

"Fuck you Malfoy," Fred whispered before kicking the fallen man in the stomach the feel of bones crunching beneath his boot was oddly satisfying. His rage gave way and he was still kicking when the small elf who had let him in was finally able to pull him back from the unconscious Slytherin. Jerking from the loathsome creatures touch Fred stalked from the manor not looking back to see what damage he had done to the blonde. His shoulders stiff with rage that wouldn't dispel he disappeared from the end of the drive with a pop.

Kreacher stared at the spot where the red head had been with wide eyes, he had only ever seen that kind of rage when his former Mistresses sons were being disciplined by their father. Leaning over he checked to see if his Master was still alive, his long fingers quivering as blood smeared them while he felt for a pulse. The weak beat was enough to let the elf's shoulders sag for a moment in relief. Quickly he levitated the fallen man into the living room and onto a long ragged looking chaise. A blanket appearing next to them with a snap of his fingers he covered the long broken form before stepping away with resolve.

"I be back with help Master," Kreacher told the unconscious Draco, knowing that his own healing was not up to par with the damage that the red headed blood traitor had done to his master. With a loud crack he disappeared from the Manor and appeared in the messy living room of Ginny Weasley. Walking forward shyly Kreacher listened to the sounds of the house, laughter and conversation were floating from the kitchen. Looking around Kreacher crept forward till he could see into the cheery looking room. Memories of faces he had not seen since his time at Grimmuald Place made him shudder as he looked at the assorted assembly of wizards. The lone witch was seated remarkably close to his spot in the shadows and Kreacher blessed the Gods that he didn't have that far to go to find her. Kreacher clung to the shadows waiting as the family continued with their dinner, he felt the tick of the clock echoing in his skull as he waited for his moment.

Ginny got up from the table slowly, holding a hand to her stomach she smiled at her brother, "Thanks for not burning the biscuits again, but this still doesn't get you out of cleaning up. I am off to bed, I have to go to the Hospital in the morning for my checkup with the healers."

Kreacher gave a silent thank-you as Ginny left the table unescorted. Deciding against catching her on the stairs Kreacher silently made his way up the stairs to her small bedroom, careful to avoid the eyes at the table and that squeaking third step that had damned him on his last visit. He pushed the door open to the small bedroom on the second landing, hands wringing as he waited for Ginny to come up. The steps creaked with weight as the red head took her time, familiarity with her own home made her progress sure and relaxed despite the elf's impatient wishing. Ginny had barely closed the door before Kreacher was moving forward, "Missus come."

Ginny whirled around her wand coming to her hand in a smooth easy movement, "Who's there?"

"Master needs you, he's hurt. Missus come with me," Kreacher snapped grabbing her hand and tugging her towards him so that he could apparate them.

"Elf? What happened," Ginny asked her foot connecting with Kreacher's shin as she stepped forward over judging the distance and off balance by his weight.

The elf bit his tongue to keep from crying out, instead choosing to apparate them both to the manor without further delay. Pulling her after him he ignored the questions pouring forth from the redhead, sighing in relief when she became mute out of frustration.

"Master is hurt," Kreacher tugged her hand once again leading her to where he had left the blonde wizard. Guiding the red head he placed her hands on the unconscious man's chest, "He not wake up."

Ginny bit her lip as she ran her hands along prone body before her, the healing spells of what felt a lifetime ago played at her lips but hesitancy and lack of power from sight prevented them from spilling forth. Fingers deftly finding the weak but steady pulse Ginny gave a sigh of relief before leaning forward and giving a cautious sniff. The coppery smell of blood was so strong Ginny almost gagged, "We need to get him to a hospital."

"No hospitals, Master would not like that," Kreacher mumbled from his spot at Ginny's elbow, "Missus a Healer. Missus can heal him."

"I can't though," Ginny said her head hanging as she rested her palm on Darcy's chest feeling the shallow movement of his chest, "I can't see him to perform the spells."

"Missus can use my eyes," Kreacher said firmly, "I can see for you. Tell you what is wrong and Missus can tell how to fix Master."

Ginny's tongue swept out to lick her lips, "He needs more help than that-."

"NO!" Kreacher yelled his pale green face flushing with anger at her, "_We_ fix Master."

Ginny's face flushed with anger but the small elf grabbed her hand holding her hand to Draco. Ginny gave a shaky whisper, "Fine then."

Kreacher sighed, "He has a cut on his head, that is where the blood is coming from."

Ginny's hands ghosted over the fine hairs on Darcy's head that were sticky with blood, taking a deep breath she began to probe the knot protruding from his skull, "How did he hit his head?"

"He fell into the stairs," Kreacher said after a moment's hesitation, "He fell and skidded into them. He has bruises on his cheeks and received blows to his chest."

"Blows? He was fighting?" Ginny stopped to turn her head to the elf, "Who was he fighting? What is going on Elf?"

Kreacher pinched his side to punish himself for the trouble he was causing his master by his loose tongue, "I don't know who he was fighting, but man is gone now and Master hasn't woke."

"Take off his clothes and look at his ribs and stomach," Ginny waited as the elf brushed her as he followed her orders, "What does the bruising look like on his stomach?"

Kreacher began to describe the deep blue and purple shoe marks that tattooed Draco's abdomen. Hands alternately pressing firmly on his ribs and stomach Ginny brought her wand up conjuring a wrap, "Put this around his middle, he broke a couple of ribs and this has to be tight to prevent them from moving."

Kreacher followed Ginny's orders without question, his fingers nimble as he wrapped and cleaned Draco's prone form. His brow knitted with worry when he caused a moan to escape the pale lips as he finished tying the knot for the bandage covering his master's forehead. Taking the basin of water he had summoned to wash Draco's wounds Kreacher climbed to his feet slowly, "I move him to his bed now."

"Be gentle," Ginny ordered though she knew that she didn't have to say anything to him for the elf had the touch of a seasoned Healer. Ginny trailed behind him as he floated the unconscious man to his new room, her hand in rough long fingered grasp as he directed them.

Setting his master on his bed watching as Draco's head lolled on his pillow, his eyes fluttering for a moment before shutting. Kreacher backed away as Ginny moved forward to sit on the bed, "I clean up the mess."

Ginny nodded her fingers gently treading through the fine locks of hair before shifting down to pull the blankets over the still form. Ginny knew the moment that the elf left the room the room ceased to be anything other than the bed that contained her and Darcy.

Her hand shaking slightly she gently cupped her hand against his cheek. Her fingers splaying across the smooth skin that was only a bit rough due to the stubble on his cheek. The pads of her fingers gently ghosting over the high cheek bone and moving slowly across his face slack in his unconscious state. His breath was hot and steady on her hand as she ghosted over his lips; fingers catching on his lips. Ginny could lie and say that she didn't get a small bit of pleasure out of finally being able to touch him without reprisal, but she wasn't a very good liar. Sighing she let her hand lift away from the sleeping man, standing up she carefully made her way around the bed to the unoccupied space next to him. Stretching out Ginny carefully arranged her body next to Darcy's still form; letting only her hand touch the prone man she relaxed her body and let her mind drift away.

AN: I know I am a bad writer who doesn't update like I should. Blame it on procrastination and writer's block. But slowly I am writing. Please no one be to harsh for the lack of Padma update in this one I am going to leave that one alone for a bit...well I am going to let you stew for a bit.


	7. Chapter 7

His head was pounding that was the first thing that he became aware of, that and the fact that there was a heavy weight on his arm mewling quietly. As painful as it was he lifted his head to stare down at the source of the noise. Ginny Weasley her hair a tangle wrapped around his arm was sleeping soundly as a lamb. She shuddered in her sleep her face turning in to his warmth as her dreams began to trouble her. Frowning Draco smoothed his hand down arm, fingers testing the smoothness of the bared skin. Goosebumps rose as she arched her body into his gentle touch the sound coming from her now was decidedly not one of discomfort and Draco could feel the more primal part of him relished the response. Stretching his arm he grimaced as his ribs protested the movement, his body couldn't resist jerking in pain startling the girl laying next to him.

Ginny bolted upright his arm falling down to her hip. Her eyes wide and blank she ran her hands along his body with a familiarity that startled him, "Are you alright? Darcy, are you in pain?"

Draco grimaced before pulling back enough to take her hands away from his body, "Perfectly. Though I am wondering what you are doing in my bed?"

Blowing her hair out of face Ginny rocked back on her haunches jostling him and making his head pound with the movement. Glaring at her now Draco resisted the urge to give her a simple push and shove her right off the bed. Hands reaching out to check him once more Draco caught her hands in his. Biting her lip Ginny laced her fingers through his, "Your elf kidnapped me so that I could help him after your brawl. Who were you fighting by the way?"

Draco bit back the automatic response of your brother, "Someone who thought he knew me."

Ginny raised an eyebrow in obvious disbelief but she didn't press him, "Elf."

A crack and Kreacher was beside them his hands wringing in the dirty loincloth he was wearing, "Master is alright?"

"Yes-," Ginny's hands whipped out to poke unceremoniously at his middle making his words end in a gasp of pain, "Bloody hell woman, are you insane?"

"Check his bandages and get me a bowl of porridge and a bagel please," Ginny ordered with a smile, "That will be all."

Kreacher nodded forcing Draco flat as his hands flew over the bandages. Draco fumed while Kreacher described the condition of his torso and head to the pensive red head. It was when the sheet was being dragged past his waist that Draco forced the pathetic creatures hands away. Struggling to his feet he felt his head swim as the blood rushed through his system, "Enough. Take her home."

"Wait, you shouldn't be getting up," Ginny crawled across the bed her skirt hiking up around her thighs and making Draco's breath catch as he leaned against the bedpost for support.

"Thank you for your help Miss Weasley but I am quite capable of taking care of myself," Draco stumbled towards the door putting distance between the temptation of creamy skin that Weasley was putting on display.

Ginny trailed behind a worried Kreacher hot on her heels, "Darcy get back in bed this instance. You have at least three broken ribs and Merlin knows what else on top of the blood loss. Why are you being so stubborn?"

Draco gripped the banister his breath coming in shallow gasps, "I don't need your help. I need you gone before someone discovers you are gone."

Ginny paused on the bottom step, her head tilted to the side, "What would it matter if they find me here? Are you hiding out from someone?"

Draco gritted his teeth cursing himself he whirled, "Just go. I need to get things done and I don't need some female harping on me."

He must have moved to quickly because her image swam before his eyes, "Bloody hell."

Ginny gasped as something heavy and warm fell into her knocking her backwards into the stairs. Catching herself Ginny hugged the prone form to her as she sank onto the cold marble steps, "Bugger. Elf, help me."

It took only moments for the silent elf to get his unconscious master back into bed. Ginny couldn't help but smile as she bathed his hot forehead in cool water, "Stubborn fool, why don't you want my help?"

"I bring Miss her breakfast," Ginny nodded as the elf set her a plate within reach of her fingers, "If you needs me just call."

"Thank you elf," Ginny gratefully picked up a piece of fruit from the plate, even more grateful when all the food she felt was easily to grasp slices of fruit. Eating in silence, Ginny let one hand rest idly on Darcy's chest. The slow steady rise and fall comforting in the stillness, "You know, I feel like I have known you for such a long time."

Giving her silent audience a rueful grin she brushed a strand of wild hair out of her face, "I have been so tired of my family treating me like I can do nothing, and you expect me to be able to do everything without bothering you. Pleasing is an understatement, you gave me a new way to live. I just don't understand why you can't trust me."

Her fingers tracing patterns across his chest, fleeting between bandage and skin with the lightest of touches. Ginny realized the moment that he was awake, his body clenched at her touch. Ignoring the tell tale signs of his awareness Ginny continued her ministrations and her one sided conversation, "What have you got to hide? I don't know what could be so horrible that you think that I would refuse to talk to you anymore, which given most the time you are trying to get rid of me I would think that is exactly what you would do. For instance why don't you let me see you?"

Trailing her fingers up his chest Ginny felt his pulse pounding in his throat as she let her fingers lead her to his profile. Holding her own breath Ginny traced her fingers over his high cheekbones and patrician nose, "Let me see you."

She half hoped he would stop her because the feeling of being able to touch him so freely with his conscious permission was overwhelming her. Her thumb smoothed over his eyebrow and skipped over the swollen eye. It wasn't until she trailed her fingers over his lips that he made any motion of being aware, a low throaty noise escaped his lips almost like a growl sang up to her ears. Ginny sighed in response, "So that is what you have been hiding? A pretty face?"

"Ginny," Darcy grabbed her hand tugging her forward so that she was forced to leave her seat, "You are trying me-."

"And that is such a bad thing? It has been so long since someone treated me like a woman and I think it has been longer since you were treated like a man," closing the distance Ginny brushed her lips against his, her belly churning at the softness of his lips. He remained passive as she kissed him, her brushes gradually growing firmer until she grew frustrated with his lack of response and began to pull back. It was like trying to pull back from a vice, his arms came up to hold her to him warm hard steel around her back holding her firm in place. Ginny smiled against his lips as he began to respond with more fervor. Mouths slanting Ginny whimpered when his teeth nipped her lower lip and she felt herself melt into him. He molded her body to his with a few well placed hand movements. Ginny though made sure not to press herself to close and hurt his sore ribs. Straddling him Ginny could feel her body practically humming as his hands roamed over her curves. He growled in impatient as his hands ripped her dress instead of fumbling with the zipper, making Ginny moan at the feel of his hands on her hot flesh. Keening low in her throat she leaned into his touch as he explored her body with passionate reverence.

Sure hands found the exact spots on her that made her pant and arch against him, "I need you."

His answering chuckle was mirthless, but Ginny was too far gone to care as his mouth closed over her peaked breast. Fingers grasping at uneven hair, Ginny held herself back just enough not to make her tugging painful. Her mind blanking as his fingers ghosted up her skirt. It was too soon Ginny thought as her body clenched sending her spiraling. His hand withdrew and Ginny reached down to help him with releasing himself, her mouth opening in a soundless moan when he grasped her hips and brought her down sheathing himself. Her head falling back Ginny let him lead her rhythm, his hips rising to meet her as he lay beneath her. His thumb stimulating her to reach her peak again Ginny clenched around him milking him as he released. Collapsing on top of him Ginny could feel his chest heaving under hers before she pushed herself off to curl up by his side.

"I'll get up in a minute I promise," Ginny whispered into his sweaty neck, "Just let me rest me a minute."

Silence met her but Ginny knew he heard her because he squeezed her thigh gently. Closing her eyes Ginny listened to the steady thump of his heart in her ear lulling her to sleep.

* * *

Hermione tucked the quill into her bun for safe keeping giving the bespectacled man a polite smile, "Give me a moment and I will see about that book sir."

Her steps light Hermione began to walk through the maze of shelves that filled the small secondhand bookshop. Wand whipping out she levitated the book she was looking for down from its hiding place, "Found it Mister Chancelain, second edition with gold leafing just like you asked."

The bleary eyed man smiled beatifically at her taking the book from her with gentle shaking hands, "Wonderful. I knew I should have stopped in here first. Oh, what wonders you have Miss Granger."

Hermione smiled taking the galleons from him she waved and laughed as he walked from the store. Slumping down onto the stool hidden behind the counter Hermione pulled the account books from beneath the scarred wooden surface. Plucking the quill from her hair she began to make the necessary notations in the columns for the transaction. Her fingers flying Hermione finished as quickly as she could and threw the book into its cubby hole with a satisfied smirk. Glancing at the clock above the door Hermione groaned at seeing she still had an hour before she could close the shop for lunch. Grabbing a dust cloth and the cleaning salve Hermione began to force a shine into the counter surface.

The bell above the door twinkled merrily making Hermione glance up at the new comer with a welcoming smile that slowly began to disappear into a frown, "What are you doing here?"

"So hostile Granger," Millicent Bulstrode carefully surveyed the pristine little shop overflowing with books neatly on display in dust free shelves, "I came to see if you have a set of Madeline Medicinal Journals. I was recommended here by several of your competitors."

"This is for Ginny," Hermione began moving as she let that knowledge sink in, "I have two sets. The original published in the late seventeenth century and the third reprinted in the early nineteenth."

"The original," Millicent wandered as Hermione went to get the texts. Studying the displayed books on various subjects from arithmancy to muggle zoology. Plucking a green leather bound book with a dancing nymph on the front Millicent gave it a disgruntled look before setting it purposefully back in the wrong place.

"Here we go," Hermione showed the pristine gold embossed book to the foreboding woman, "First edition, in pristine condition with only one case of restoration needed."

Millicent nodded reaching into her purse for the few coins that were lying in the bottom, "How much?"

Hermione gave her a calculating look, "It is marked at a hundred and seventy galleons."

Millicent blinked, "That much for a book that is of no use to anyone really."

Closing her purse Millicent began to the door, Hermione rolled her eyes, "We could work something out…perhaps a payment system."

Her teeth gritting Millicent resisted the urge to fling a hex at the brown haired mouse. Turning she drew her wand, "What makes you think that I was going to pay? I could just take the book and be done with it."

Hermione gave her a calculated look, "Threatening a muggle born citizen and not even a month after being released from prison. I understand though that loosing everything was something of a shock-."

Millicent's wand slashed through the air with ferocity, "Enough."

Hermione frozen in her spot could only move her eyes as the former Death Eater approached. The dark haired witch gave her a cheeky grin before plucking the book from the counter, "Talking is overrated mudblood, something that I picked up from my time in Azkaban."

Giving Hermione one last sneer Millicent apparated away from the shop leaving the frazzled witch frozen in time. Still smiling at her own audacity Millicent landed in her cousin's foyer.

"Blaise are you home," discarding her coat with the house elf, Millicent began leafing through her new acquisition. Eyes focused on the book she walked to Blaise's room without seeing, "I think that even without the diary maybe I can come up with something."

Pushing open the door Millicent stopped short at the neatly made bed. Shaking her head to keep from laughing Millicent turned to go down the hall to the library.

* * *

"Trevor, get your sorry butt out of the bed and take the garbage out," Trevor Cain groaned but all the same swung his feet over the side of the bed. Getting up he scratched his head as he stumbled to the loo. He could hear his mother bumbling around in the kitchen below, "Be right down Mum."

Pulling on the shirt from the night before, Trevor splashed some water on his face after relieving his bladder. Falling down the stairs he gave his mother a peck on the cheek, "Afternoon Mum."

"Get," Libby Cain swatted him with a spoon, "Been drinking with your cousins at the pub again? What about work? Been leaving those boats to the last minute won't get them cleaned any. If your Father could see you-."

"I know, I know he would be shaking his head in shame," Trevor grabbed a biscuit from the baking sheet, "I'll take the trash out, will that keep the head shaking to a minimum?"

"No," Libby looked skyward her graying hair falling around her face, "Now I need to go to town this afternoon do you think you could pick up that room of yours while I'm gone?"

"Sure thing Mum," Trevor took the bags of trash out of the bin. Slipping his feet into his flip flops he began out the door nodding his head to his mother's lamenting. The sun was right overhead hidden by the clouds but it wasn't dreary looking, just regular as far as Trevor was concerned. His brown hair flopping in the wind he tossed the trash into the outdoor bin, smiling at a slight little tabby cat sitting on the fence around his mother's garden, "Here kitty-kitty."

The cat swiped at him with his paw but didn't move as Trevor approached steadily. Raising his hand Trevor made soft soothing sounds to the cat careful not to startle it. Just as his hand was setting down on the little cat's head it took off. Trevor followed the cat with his eyes until it disappeared into the high grass. Turning to go back into the house Trevor tucked his hands deep into his pajama pockets.

The cat darted in front of him running along the concrete path and through the garden. Trevor's eyes followed its movements mesmerized not by the playful actions but by the footprints it was leaving behind. Tiny perfect little prints in a wet dark red. Stopping Trevor could feel his heart hammering, "What the hell?"

Looking at the cat he watched as it came to a stop licking its fur clean in the best of spirits. His eyes could see there was nothing wrong with the little creature making his heart hammer all the more. Carefully he followed the prints back through to the where they disappeared onto the dirt. Palms sweating he looked through the tall weeds, his hands pushing the grass aside that came to his hip. He stopped with a jerk his eyes frozen on the hidden spot in the weeds, "Oh God."

* * *

Parvati Patil's heels clicked on the tile floor of . Since they were babies it had always been her and Padma, together, nothing separating them. Then they got their letters for Hogwarts and it was no longer Padma and Parvati, it was Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. The first night they had slept apart in eleven years Parvati cried. The next morning at breakfast she had watched in abstract horror as Padma had walked to her table with a bounce in her step and a chattering blonde at her side. Parvati wouldn't say that she hated Hogwarts but she always resented it, as it had separated her from her sister. Ravenclaw was different than Gryffindor quieter, the members fighting against one another to have the best marks was not the best atmosphere for the close friendships that seemed prevalent in her sisters' house. After Hogwarts they had gotten caught up in the war, and Parvati had waited patiently for her sister to remember her, remember that they were one person split into one. She didn't, instead she had turned to Percy Weasley for the other half that she was missing and Parvati stood by and watched her sister fall in love. She was happy for Padma, happier than she had ever been for anyone else in her life but Parvati felt like that eleven year old sitting at a table full of strangers watching her sister fit in while she struggled. Pulling her coat closer she gave a nod to the receptionist, "Where can I find Auror Potter?"

"Parvati," Harry stood up Ron by his side, grim faced they walked towards her. The rest of the Weasley's stood at attention, Luna gave her an all to serious look as she held Georgie against her side. Parvati took a shaky step towards them but Harry reached her before she could get much further. She practically fell into his arms her hands clutching his robes; his throat closing up Harry held her, "I'm sorry-."

Wiping at her eyes Parvati reared back away from him, "Where is she?"

Ron nodded to Parvati, "I'll take you to her."

His arm around her shoulders Ron turned her down the hall to the stairs. Parvati stopped at the direction change, a whimper broke her throat her fingers gripping convulsively together, "No, no, no…"

She couldn't even take the steps to the basement needed to go see her sister, she was a coward. Her eyes closing Parvati shook as the tears blurred her eyes, "I can't. I can't."

Ron looked at Harry but the dark haired wizard was trying to hold back his own tears, turning back to the girl in his arms he leaned down to whisper, "You have to. You are the only one."

Parvati shook her head her body shaking with the sobs that were caught in her throat. Turning her face up to the man that had been the boy she had once had a crush on, "Stay with me."

Ron smiled at her, using his thumb to wipe away a tear lingering on her cheek, "I'm not going anywhere."

Parvati gave a sigh of relief before turning back to the hallway. She didn't rush, there was no need to. Her hand secure in Ron's larger one she walked down the stairs to the basement. The Mediwitch sitting at her desk glanced up at them, making to stand she gave Parvati a concerned look. Shoving a strand of her hair out of her face Parvati looked up at Ron, "Where?"

The mediwitch offered her hand, "Miss Patil, I'm sorry that you had to come down here like this but a close family member must be the one to identify-."

"Where is my sister?" Parvati demanded her voice lashing out in the still room, "Just, where is she?"

"I understand," moving aside Ron felt Parvati straighten against him as the 's official walked to an examine table to pull the sheet back, "Is this your sister?"

Parvati couldn't see her sister in the body lying on the table. Walking forward she wasn't even aware of the other two people in the room she was studying the stranger on the table. She had the same glossy black hair as Padma, the same high cheekbones and slightly hooked nose. Her breath catching Parvati extended her hand to touch the bare shoulder exposed by the sheet, the skin beneath her fingers was cold and stiff to the touch and nothing like the vibrant liveliness that she had always associated with Padma. Parvati could feel the eyes on her, could tell that Ron was right behind her ready to catch her if she couldn't hold herself up anymore. Slowly Parvati bent her head to press her lips against the cheek exactly like her own, "Sister."

The healer was ready to pull the sheet back to cover the body as soon as Ron gave her a sign. Parvati wanted to thank her, but she couldn't open her mouth to make herself say the words. Ron's hands came up to cup her shoulders, "Let her go Parvati."

She couldn't talk as she just nodded and let the healer cover Padma's still face with the sheet. Turning Parvati buried her face in Ron's chest her tears soaking through his shirt and his arms around her as she sobbed.

* * *

Harry wanted to kick the elf clear across the room when it stood in front of him preventing him from going upstairs. Gripping his wand he pointed it at the pathetic creature, "I need to get Ginny. You will get out of my way before I do what Sirius wanted to do all those years ago."

Kreacher flinched but held his ground in the face of the Auror's anger, "Miss is busy. I will tell her that you stopped by-."

"_Stupefy_," The red light hit the elf with enough force that it rocketed back into the stairs cracking its head. Harry stopped long enough to check to see if it was still alive before climbing the stairs two at a time. Throwing open the doors as he began yelling her name Harry wasn't surprised when Draco appeared at the end of the third hall he went down with his wand drawn. Stalking forward Harry took in the bruises and bandages covering the blonde's torso, smirking his wand at the ready Harry stopped a few feet short of the angry man, "Where the hell is Ginny?"

"Not due for another spot check-," Harry's wand shot out to silence the blonde, Draco's eyes didn't even widen at the threat. Shrugging Draco stepped aside, "In there."

Giving him a final glare Harry pushed into the room only to stop at the sight of the redhead on the bed. Wrapped in a sheet she was sprawled on her stomach across the bed, Harry stopped short his mouth dropping open at the picture before him. Her skin was creamy and a soft peach color against the sheets, his mind going numb at the amount of skin on display. He had never forgotten the short time that they had together back in school and even for bits during the war, but since her accident it seemed that every time he took a step towards her she was running away. His eyes disbelieving Harry turned to the man leaning against the doorway, his thumbs hooked in his pants pockets, "You fucking-."

"Mmhmm," Ginny rolled onto her back stretching her body out and catching both males attention. Harry's eyes widened in surprise at the rose tipped breast jutting out while Draco's darkened with interest. Blank hazel eyes staring out at the room Ginny brought her knees up to her chest, the sheet covering her legs was tattered looking and dingy but next to the wanton look that Ginny was displaying it was a fine silk. A lazy smile on her lips she turned her face into the sunlight, "Is something wrong? I thought I heard something."

Harry glared at Draco daring him to say anything but the blonde was already disappearing out the door, leaving Harry to handle the now confused girl on the bed. Sighing Harry shrugged out of his cloak, "Ginny, it's Harry. You need to come with me."

"Harry," she blushed pulling the sheet to her chest and scooting to the edge of the bed opposite his voice. The sheet wrapping around her body, her hair falling in disarray around her shoulders, "What's going on? Where's Darcy?"

"Not here," walking around the bed Harry made an attempt to wrap the robes around her shoulders.

Ginny backed away from him her face a mask of confusion and hurt, "Wait. What's going on? What did you do with Darcy?"

Harry could curse but before he could do anything Draco appeared with a woman's robe thrown over his arm. Harry felt his back stiffen as Draco glared at him till he moved away. Ginny was feeling on the bed trying to find something when she simply gave up and sat down, "Harry what the hell is going on?"

"I need you to come home," Harry moved out of Draco's way but kept his eyes on the blonde, "He's back."

Her relief at Draco's nearness made Harry physically ill but the only one who could see his reaction was focused on the girl on the bed. Draco turned to Harry, "Mind giving us a minute."

Harry turned his back the only allowance to privacy he was going to give him. Draco took it turning to Ginny he tugged her to her feet, "Here put this on."

"Jealous someone else could be looking at me," Draco snorted at her in answer, tugging on her hair sharply to get her to raise her arms up. Carefully he slipped the silk dress robes over her head, the sheet falling to the floor at their feet. Draco's hands helped to guide the long old fashioned dress down her body, his hands running firmly and assuredly as they helped right her appearance. Completely clothed from neck to the tops of her toes Ginny ran a hand through her tangled hair, "Now that I am clothed in what feels like funeral robes. Want to tell me why you're here Harry?"

"They found Padma," Harry whispered stepping forward he pushed himself between the two, "She's dead Gin."

Ginny didn't crumple Harry knew she had to much spirit in her to collapse. She did pale though, her hands came to her middle as she turned her face up at him, "When? How? What about the baby and Percy?"

Draco moved away giving them space he walked to the window as he listened to Harry comforting Ginny. She kept mumbling between the sobs about baby and how it was a mistake and it wasn't her sister-in-law. Draco closed his eyes remembering the dark eyed girl from Hogwarts, now she was dead like so many others. No one got peace any more, there was always death and pain around every corner.

"I have to go," Ginny whispered wiping at her eyes, "I have to go home. What about Parvati? Has anyone-."

"Parvati is with Ron," Harry began leading her to the door, "They are going to her grandparents, the only family she's got left since their parents death."

The last part was a bitter note for Draco to hear, he had been part of the group that had attacked the Patil home killing the twins family during the middle of the night. His hands gripping the windowsill he made no move to stop the other man as he led the still crying Ginny from the room. It was better this way, Draco thought watching them walking along the path to the apparition point, Potter wouldn't hurt her more than she already was.

* * *

Percy could hear nothing. It was frightening after so many days of hearing Neville moving overhead. His body tensed he waited a few more seconds before stretching his foot out as long as it would go. It had taken him an hour and a half to get his leg to even stretch to its natural position. Neville had broken and healed it at an awkward angle causing his leg to scream with pain as he forced it out. He was breathing hard, his skin pulling at the stitches on his chest but Percy was so overcome with the pain in his leg that he didn't even notice the few stitches tearing and the small rivulets of blood leaking out. His heel landed on the small knife that Neville had dropped after his last visit. It bit into his foot as he began to drag his foot backward but Percy didn't care. His body was clammy with sweat and exertion but he refused to stop. The bones in his leg cracking he pulled his foot back towards his body. It took just moments but it seemed like it was days before his foot and the knife came within his reach. Panting he lay back against the wall his shackled hands clanking down on the knife he fiddled with it till he had a good grip on it. It didn't take much to fiddle with the antiquated lock that was holding his chains in place till the small blade tripped the locking mechanism. Sending a silent prayer up to George for teaching him how to pick locks all those years ago.

Staring down at his mangled legs Percy doubted he could walk on the crooked mess of bone and muscle. Turning on his side he began pulling his body along by his arms, his fingers clawing at the floor. A noise from the floor above made his heart freeze, lifting his head up he stared at the door at the top of the stairs. Nothing came though and Percy dragged his prone body to the bottom of the stairs. Pulling himself up into a sitting position using the railing, Percy rested for a minute. His eyes closed head leaning back against the post, sweat mixed with the dirt and blood covering his body. His eyes cracked open wearily to the top of the stairs, grunting he pushed himself forward. His hands gripping the planks he began pulling his body the wood. Splinters gave his almost numb body a stinging awareness that made him push himself more. He was almost to the top when he heard a door open over the pounding of blood in his ears.

Percy was stuck, he couldn't go up any faster than he was and he couldn't get back to his spot on the floor before his captor found him. Sitting up he leaned against the stair railing, waiting for the door to open and Neville to find him. Waited for the twisted man to find him waiting for him on the stairs like a corpse. The door opened slowly, Percy was ready his chin up in a mockery of his former snobbish self. His eyes widened only slightly as the man opening the door drew to a halt a step in the stairwell.

"Zabini?"

* * *

A.N.: So here is the newest chapter. Don't stress on my other stories, I have them ready to go just tweaking them. Love to everyone. Don't kill me because of Padma, initially i was going to off Percy but I couldn't work it out to fit right. Hopefully this won't turn you off to reading the rest but I was feeling dark when i wrote it.


End file.
